All a Circle
by pat19btvs
Summary: Eight months after Chosen, things are up and running in England. BuffyTara pairing. Hope you enjoy. COMPLETE.
1. Part One & Part Two

Part One

-Bath, England, Present-

"Slayer Central" was peacefully secluded in the English countryside. In the cold, snow-covered, English countryside. Buffy was still getting used to the fact that weather was capable of changing in wintry months like February. Everything had come together so fast. Eight months after Sunnydale's crater-ization, they were an established operation. Due primarily to Giles' connections, as well as his--and the old Council's--deep pockets.

Training facilities, offices, dormitories, a library, and a cafeteria sat on their property. As did a spacious house that Buffy, Dawn, Xander, Willow and Kennedy called their own, so they were always nearby if something should happen. Giles lived on his family's estate nearby. They'd gotten used to living under the same roof. Weren't there as often as they wanted, what with everyone having lots of responsibilities requiring them to travel around the world often, but it was nice to have a home.

To know that, as much as things had changed because of what they'd accomplished, when in that house together, nothing had changed at all. It was a good life. A busy one, and still dangerous, but good.

The fate of many was in their hands, so the motto was, "Be different." Don't follow the old ways, don't make the same mistakes. She, Xander, Willow and Giles were all involved in the decision-making. Kennedy too, if it pertained to one of the next generation. Faith, when she dropped in to take a break from her nomadic existence, added her piece to the mix also. Being democratic was a conscious choice.

Xander was "Tactics and Strategy," Willow handled all things mystical and magical, Giles as always did the research (which he turned over to Dawn whenever he had to deal with keeping this place running, in whatever form that took, and Dawn was quite the fount of knowledge these days), Kennedy was Buffy's second-in-command when it came to training new slayers...and Faith? Faith liked to administer "final exams" in the field. She put the girls through their paces, toughened them up.

While Buffy was involved in a little bit of everything, including being a bit of an ambassador, what she lived for was taking a group on their first mission. Every slayer who agreed to join their team--it was completely voluntary--had been led into battle by Buffy. She liked seeing their faces after they'd saved someone's life, or just simply worked together to win and survive. They were all connected, helping to keep the world spinning; it was an overwhelming job if you thought about it, but there was no other feeling like it. Buffy herself felt more comfortable in her own skin then ever before.

So if everything was going so well, why was she standing alone in the stable, pensive expression on her face, brushing the horses' manes? Yes, they had a stable. So...why?

Because this was where she thought about the person who should be here and wasn't. A person whom she owed for seeing her through a dark time, and putting her on the positive path that brought her here. Instead, she repaid them by placing them in a position to be killed. By a goddamn, stray bullet of all things. And rational or not, Buffy would never, ever forgive herself.

Tara liked horses.

"'Cuse me, Ma'am?" Someone was intruding on her solitary.

Buffy sighed. She was nowhere near that old. "You all really have to stop calling me that, Nadia."

"Sorry, Ma'a...um, Buffy." Nadia hastily corrected in her Russian accent. "But Mr. Xander, Willow, Miss Kennedy and Dawn...well, they-they are all in Mr. Giles' office. I'm supposed to come get you."

Furrowed brow. "What's going on?"

"I don't know, but I believe they were crying."

Crying? That wasn't a good sign.

* * *

Giles had two offices in one, really. A large, outer office where he met with bigwigs of both human and demon variety, held meetings, etc. Then there was the cozier, more intimate one where he would read and drink his tea in peace and quiet. No one was in the large office when Buffy entered, so she went to the other door, and knocked. He let her in with a welcoming smile. Walking past, her smile was uncertain.

Candlelight burned on her watcher's desk, which was pressed against the wall immediately to her right. Xander sat there, but faced the couch. He was wiping at his eye. In the far right corner to her left, Willow and Kennedy sat on soft, high-backed arm chair. The redhead had clearly been shedding tears. Next to them, a stocked bookshelf.

Finally looking to the couch, she moved around onto the circular rug, so she could see who occupied it--her breath caught in her throat. Her sister was there, clinging to an arm. An arm belonging to someone they'd all believed gone. Buffy ran through an automatic checklist in her head:

_'Dawn's touching her. Not the First'  
'She's breathing, isn't pale...not a vampire'  
'Which means...'_

"Tara?" Buffy questioned whisperingly, afraid to break the illusion.

Tara stood, Dawn reluctantly freeing her. "You let your hair grow." She smiled her smile. "You look so healthy, too...oh, I'm proud of you sweetie."

The slayer's lower lip was trembling. "Please be you."

Tara made the move first, wrapping her arms around her friend. "So far."

Buffy's arms instantly wrapped around Tara in kind, and the dam broke. Tears she didn't even know she had in her, she wept. Didn't want to let go.

And what did she think? She thought Tara was warm. She thought Tara was alive.

* * *

-Sunnydale, January 2002-

Buffy's choked sobs rang loud in Tara's ears, despite being partially muffled by her lap, where a blonde head lay. Sitting on the couch, she thought about how the otherwise silent, dimly lit living room only served to amplify the sounds. It wasn't just empty--like every room in the house, it wasn't warm anymore, either. Maybe it was as lost as the rest of them. "Depressing" came off as too weak a description for their lives lately.

Yet, with everything going into a seemingly endless spiral, Tara had somehow been able to find positives within herself.

And currently, within Buffy. Realizing the inevitability of the slayer's collapse now, she felt grateful to be here, honored. Because while seeing this broke her heart, there was also beauty beneath the pain. What was beautiful about a fallen hero? These outpouring emotions proved that Buffy could feel, did feel, and was very much human. Her friend wouldn't recognize that in such a fragile state, though.

Still rubbing Buffy's shortened locks comfortingly, she softly spoke. "Buffy? Buffy, sweetie, look at me."

From the floor, the blonde lifted up her head, her eyes shimmering and puffy. Tara had never seen her so vulnerable; she'd only seen her cry openly once before: after Riley left town. Also, from her and Willow's talks, she'd learned how rarely Buffy had let go in the past, and Willow was her best friend: when Faith murdered the Deputy Mayor, when Angel broke up with her, and then later, emerging from her coma--triggered by losing Dawn to Glory. Bottling things until you have a major meltdown hardly seemed healthy.

It wasn't that they made a habit of discussing Buffy behind her back, but all of the Scoobies knew their leader closed herself off, distanced herself. That practice had become more frequent with each passing year, as life and slaying continually took their toll, and they became more concerned; no matter what they did, nothing changed. Because they cared so much, it was extremely frustrating. As well as sad.

This moment, however, had to be the worst. Her abrupt exit from a blissful, heavenly dimension, being resurrected by her friends--which forced a frantic, clawing escape from her own grave--whom she didn't feel able to turn to, having to face bills and raising her sister alone without her mother, Giles leaving, her best friend nearly getting her sister killed, discovering that Spike could hit her, thinking she'd come back wrong, using him for sex...it all led to this overload, to the release she could no longer contain.

Again, inevitable. Necessary. Except Tara was allowed to be a witness. And because she could count, on one hand, the number of times Buffy revealed her vulnerability, revealed that she wasn't always the rock that could weather anything, that's why the witch felt honored. Plus, there was another positive. This might have been the hero's worst point, her lowest, but now that that anguish wasn't trapped inside, she could start climbing. Feeling Buffy cling to her waist suddenly, Tara knew she'd be steadying the rope a while.

She didn't mind.

As far as Buffy's actions, Tara's words hadn't gotten through. Placing her hands on Buffy's arms, she silently urged her up, telling her there was nothing to forgive. But if forgiveness was needed, then it was hers to have. Buffy rose just enough to quickly sit herself on the couch beside the taller blonde, and embrace her apprehensively. Only when she felt the gesture returned, when she felt herself hugged strongly, did she respond in kind. Forgiveness was communicated through the act itself.

Regardless of how tight Tara's hold on her petite frame was, Buffy held on tighter, feeling protected, safe, feeling nothing other than good energy. Exactly the opposite of what Spike offered. However, like with him, she knew as soon as Tara was gone, the feelings would follow. She wished they didn't, she wished she wasn't this dependent on another person, she wished she were in control, confident...

In the several minutes they sat there together, she wished a lot of things.

"It's all right to need someone. To let go. Even just once in a while." Tara whispered, almost reading her mind. "And nobody sh-should ever be alone if they don't have to be. Including you. So don't feel ashamed, okay? Because I st-st-still think you're pretty amazing." She blushed while Buffy's muscles relaxed. That small embarrassment was worth it, then. "I'm...I'm glad I'm here; thanks for trusting me."

"Why wouldn't I?" Buffy was beginning to smile when she released and looked at her friend. "You're the most non-judgmental person I know. It's weird actually, because we don't hang out much, do we?" Pause. "Except, if it was Willow or Xander...I wouldn't have gotten this far. I don't think I could've. Admitted this to them, I mean. Guess I should be able to, but I can't." Wiping her eyes, she took a deep, cleansing breath. "Anyway...I really am trying to find a pretty specific point. Which is, I'm glad you're here, too.

"And yunno, I'm thinking we should hang out more often, starting now. S'long overdue."

Tara smiled back in return. "I'd like that."

"Some friend, huh?" The slayer smirked, shaking her head. "Here I am dumping all my stuff on you, and I haven't even asked how you're holding up. Sorry. 'Rude Buffy's' outta the building, I promise. 'Polite Buffy's' in charge, and she's asking if you want something to drink, then if she oughta mind her own business."

"No apologizing." The witch ordered, but then cracked another smile. She saw that Buffy was away from the dark place for the time being, and she was going to allow her to set the pace. "But if you're sure you're up to it...is there still hot chocolate in the cabinet?"

"I dunno. Let's check. Could always use more warming." The girls got off the couch, and Buffy subconsciously brushed her fingers lightly over Tara's before they began walking to the kitchen. "Definitely up to it, though--I'm all cried out for tonight. Not a hundred percent sure about tomorrow, but tonight? I'm good. Or close to it, at least."

* * *

"Aha." Buffy remarked as she pulled an unopened box from the cabinet to the above-left of the sink. "Consider your question answered--it's kinda hard to believe, but powdered, cocoa beans? We're stocked with 'em. And they come in handy packets. So you want, right?" She turned to Tara, who was heading for the fridge. "Sit." She gestured to the island, and then broke the box's seal. "Hot chocolate's one of the few things I know how to make without the kitchen going 'boom.'"

Tara opened the refrigerator door. "You're too late; I'm already helping." She rooted around inside while her host got a smallish-sized pot from one of the lower cabinets.

"Okay, now my arm's twisted. Ya happy?" The slayer grinned as she thwacked two packets of cocoa mix against her thigh several times while waiting for the milk. "Help. Go nuts." Then she remembered how the witch had gone nuts not too long ago. "Or...don't, because I'm pretending I never suggested it." Sigh. "Takes foot out of mouth," Having set the packets on the counter, she pantomimed her words, "and even though she's tempted to apologize--" Milk gallon and cream in both hands, Tara gave her a look as she walked over, "--she resists the urge, not giving in."

"Good." Tara said, placing her items down on the counter beside the packets. "Because I wasn't even thinking...about Glory; it's been m-m-months since I have." Closing her eyes, she breathed in, and calmed herself. "And usually, if I do?"

"Like now? Cause I've got guilt issues and couldn't just quit?"

"If I do," Uh oh--that look again, "I don't...fall apart anymore. Took a long time, though."

"Yeah, I can imagine." The petite girl was in her own harsh mindset, but she wasn't arrogant enough to believe that her pain was on the level of someone who'd spent what must have felt like an eternity in a dark, empty void searching for a way out. "Sorta."

There was a sad smile on Tara's face. "Willow w-would always..."

Buffy could tell this was difficult for her; Tara was annoyed with herself. She had thought, in these nearly two months since breaking up with Willow, that she'd gained confidence, the ability to stand on her own two feet, some semblance of self-identity...yet she stuttered and stumbled over things she believed handled. Awfully fast, too. But the slayer would've thought her perception was skewed, having seen a very assured woman walk into the house.

A woman who finally seemed comfortable in her own skin. More comfortable than she, at any rate. It was probably a giant part of why defenses were lowered back there--because she knew Tara was in a position to withstand it. No, a change certainly occurred. It was still occurring. Both were aware of that, so Tara, by trying to rush it, by corking her emotions...

...Well, she wasn't following advice she'd given mere minutes before, which was rather hypocritical. Maybe whatever change remained was being prevented--by avoiding the whole, unresolved issue of a redhead, and separating herself from people she called "family." And if she was holding back to spare Buffy, that was just silly.

"She really hurt you." It was a statement, not a question. As much as the small blonde wanted to help her best friend, unfortunately, her best friend didn't make it easy to sympathize. "Do you miss her at all?"

The witch was silent only briefly, considering her response. "I miss how she used to make me feel."

Nod. "I get that."

And Buffy wasn't kidding. There were two periods in her life where she could identify--back with Angel when she was eighteen, and most recently, her present situation. She missed how being alive used to make her feel. Interlocking digits, it was her turn to let Tara know it was okay.

"Uh, shouldn't we finish making...?" Tara started and trailed off, self-conscious.

"Right." Buffy said, still gripping her hand. "Then we can go sit and--"

"Talk?"

"Right." Hand released, she cleared her throat, concentrating on the task ahead. "Oh, is there whipped cream? And cinnamon?"

* * *

"Are you attractive?" Buffy asked Tara after careful consideration.

"Mm, I guess?" Was the uncertain response given. "I mean, I wouldn't go out with them, but..." Her eyebrows rose. "You really think he's attractive?"

Around a half an hour later, they were in the dining room drinking their mugs of hot chocolate, and playing Guess Who? The game involved an exaggerated assortment of cartoon, male and female characters on two, separate boards. It asked the players to guess which character their opponent had picked at the beginning of the game.

Flicking the male characters down she deemed unattractive, the slayer hesitantly answered. "Probably, yeah. You know, compared to the other people..." Tara smirked good-naturedly, but she was embarrassed nonetheless. "Like you didn't gawk at Jessica Rabbit. And hey, she didn't even have a nose."

"No," The witch agreed trying to hold back a shy grin, "but that wasn't so bad. And she made up for it...um, elsewhere." While Buffy chuckled, she posed her next question. "Do you wear glasses?"

"'Fraid not." Buffy said before taking a sip from her mug while the non-glass wearers were flicked down across the table. "It just keeps my 'Poor Guy Choice' streak alive. Gotta say, wouldn't mind if it dried up." She tapped her fingers on the side of the mug for a few moments. "You think Spike loves me? Meaning, sincerely?" Next she chewed on her lip, thoughtfully. "And d'you have a hat on?"

Tara double-checked her character's card and shook her head. "Uh-uh, sorry." She was glad that Dawn was at a sleepover and that Willow was crashing at UC Sunnydale's library tonight. The redhead had fallen behind on her assignments, and was trying to play catch up, according to Buffy. "I think he tries to. Except it isn't...exactly pure love."

"Because he doesn't have a soul. And he's a vampire." The petite blonde stated, mulling over things. "But it's in him somewhere? Cause, I never got that impression."

"Maybe you didn't wanna notice." Tara said, bringing the mug to her lips. Drinking and putting the mug back down, she saw that the game had ceased being a priority. "Last year, it seemed like he wanted to be the kind of person he th-thought you'd respect"  
"And fall for? I noticed. Only, most of the time he was playing stalker and stealing my clothes for his psychotic, underground ode to all that is me. Or whoever he wishes I was--enter 'Robo Buffy.'" Buffy was still bitter and unsettled about that. "Spike having his own, personal sex toy was plenty disgusting enough, but adding the 'way too chipper' factor? Whole, new level of creepy."

Both silently realized that if the robot had survived, Spike would no longer have need for it. Buffy now fulfilled its role, and there were times when she felt robotic herself. Hmm. Maybe "dehumanized" was a more appropriate word.

"I meant..." The witch started to explain her side better, but the will left her, because frankly, her side wasn't holding up well. "N-n-never mind. I'm probably wr-wrong."

"You aren't, Tara. I'm just...focusing on the non-pure, I know that." The slayer admitted that for Tara's sake, not because she accepted the parts of Spike that weren't villainous. "But him suddenly being emotionally schitzo when he's supposed to just be regular, old evil? Yeah, doesn't change the fact that I can't love him."

"Do you want to?"

"What? No." Denied a touch too fast. "Even if he had a soul I'd..." She heaved a large sigh, unable to turn down the idea flat. "...rather not go there. But, seeing him, it's never about love; it isn't even about the part where we actually have sex, cause during, I'm numb. Didn't start out that way, only like everything else in my life lately, whatever I felt wore off fast."

Tara was afraid of what she'd hear next, but the question came regardless. "Then why?"

Ashamed, Buffy lowered her head already. "Violence tends to, um, happen a lot with us. Especially before...if-if we're alone." Yet she felt her friend's warmth again. Tara reached across the table and laid an encouraging hand on her forearm. Looking up, she was met with saddened but understanding eyes. "He'll tell me how I don't belong around people; in his mind, that's somehow the perfect reason for why I should hide in the dark instead. With him. Then, cause I don't wanna believe what he's saying, I'll get angry and we beat the hell out of each other." Pause. "After we're…done, I kind of hurt everywhere. It lasts a-a couple days, but once they're over there's nothing, and--"

"Spike's there." It was clear that while Buffy might've been using him, he wasn't innocent in this. He was trying to break her mentally, which Tara found far more horrible--she had firsthand experience with that kind of abuse. Multiple experiences.

"Pain's generally the one thing I can count on; reminds me I'm still breathing." Buffy knew the taller blonde was searching for words that weren't available, so with hands shaking just enough to draw attention to themselves, she finished her hot chocolate in a single gulp and tried to recall where they'd left off. "Please let it be your turn."

Her eyes did little to conceal how much she hoped it was.

* * *

Though it'd been her turn to guess, Tara knew Buffy had stopped caring about their diversion. No, it was also her turn to talk, because her friend was understandably exhausted. As she started summarizing life post-Willow and packing the game in its box, Buffy took their mugs to the dishwasher. Getting this part out was easier if she didn't have to fear eye contact; she was nervous enough.

Only when the slayer returned into the dining room did she respond to what she'd heard. "Really? You're dating?" Leaning against the adjoining entranceway, she seemed mildly surprised, but not upset. "Like, how exclusively? Very? Not so very?"

"Oh, not." Tara was quick to shake her head. "May-maybe I shouldn't have said 'dating.' It's more just...getting to know people. In, um, public places."

"Are drinks and/or food involved?"

"Well, s-sometimes there's coffee." All right, so it did bare a strong resemblance to "dating." She smiled unsurely, and then half to herself, "Okay, wh-when I thought it? Could've sworn it sounded a lot different."

Buffy smiled as she came further in and took the box off the table. "You're just fishing--it's allowed." She continued into the living room. "More than. It's required."

"'Fishing'?" Tara hadn't ever fished before; she'd only watched her father and brother. Though she highly doubted her fellow blonde, who was sliding the game underneath the couch, meant literally.

"Yeah...where you water-test and find out who your options are. Then after a few practice casts, y'see if one of 'em wants to maybe bite. Or nibble." Buffy was on her way back into the dining room as the suggestive nature hit her. "Nibble your lure, I mean." Well, that wasn't much cleaner. Redness. "Wow. That kinda spiraled. I was going for a PG-rated metaphor in the beginning, except since it's doubling as a euphemism now...think I'll stop before things get worse. Which they could. Easily."

The witch gave her patented half-grin. "If it makes you feel better? I think I am fishing. Only it doesn't go past PG. Nobody ever..." Slight match in redness. "...re-reaches my lure. They don't even see the bait. That's all I'm comfortable with for now."

"Understandable." The slayer said, laughing with her friend, who had a side to her she hadn't seen before. "Wanna go sit out back? Cause I'm not through with you yet." She then reconsidered. "Unless you have an early class tomorrow...do you have an early class tomorrow?"

A blonde head shook, as Tara stood up from the table. "My first class isn't until two."

With that settled, to the backyard they went, sitting beside one another on the bench. Fresh air and a clear sky didn't solve Buffy's problems, but being here certainly felt less oppressive than being in the house. She thought it might've been easier for Tara too, when talking about other girls, if the young woman was free of the building that held memory upon memory of times with her ex. Seemed logical.

And if she also happened to enjoy Tara's presence and wasn't ready to face a house where she was the sole, lone occupant, was that a crime?

"Nice night." Buffy commented, looking up. "Almost makes you forget there're all those demons loitering everywhere being evil. When they're not playing poker for kittens." Tara looked equal parts perplexed and horrified. She assumed they didn't give their winnings good homes stocked with catnip. "Well, only some demons. Like Spike."

This was as close as the listener would ever get to being glad that Miss Kitty Fantastico had been the unfortunate, accidental target of Dawn and a crossbow--at least the cat wasn't something's lunch. But more important, it was evident that the sooner Buffy was weaned off of Spike and what she believed he offered her, the better she'd be.

Tara wanted her healing ASAP. "What time do you work tomorrow?"

"I got stuck with the late shift." Came the grumble. "Why?"

"Do you w-w-wanna...?" Annoyed, the witch stopped and started over. "There's something I think you should see," She was apprehensive, "and I was wondering if I could show you. Do you mind getting up early?" Not hearing an immediate answer, she chickened out. "If you--"

Raised eyebrow. "How early?"

"Before dawn."

Gape. "Dawn as in, the time of day, 'dawn'?"

"Um, yes." Tara confirmed, resisting the temptation to hide her face. "I'll bring a thermos. With coffee."

Why did this sound awfully familiar? Oh right. "Regular, decaf, or date coffee?"

Sounded familiar to the embarrassed, blue-eyed blonde as well. "R-r-regular. Of course. I want to help, uh, as a fr-friend, so I--"

"It's okay. M'only teasing." Said the hazel-eyed blonde lightly, putting a hand on a tense shoulder. "And somehow, I'll find a way to wake myself up on time; either by drinking much water before bed, or replacing the batteries in my alarm clock. Depends how lazy I feel. Then we can go where I'm betting you won't tell me."

Smile. "Not yet. But it'll be worth it. I hope."

"Fine, but I'm taking a lot on faith here. Surprises are over-hyped as it is." Pause. "So, the real dating. When did that start?"

Tara breathed deep, and got underway. "About three weeks after we...after I broke up with Willow." She sat a little straighter. "I wallowed for a while, second-guessing myself about whether I did the right thing...and then I was here making pancakes for Dawn, and Willow came in with Amy, who suddenly wasn't a rat anymore--they'd been doing magick all night. She didn't care, Buffy. So I decided, to hell with it, you know? I needed to move on."

Buffy nodded. "I remember that morning. I came in at the tail end, but...was pretty strong, Tara."

The compliment was shrugged off. "I had to just do it, finally; I was sick of feeling miserable. And going out, meeting different people, who for some reason wanna meet me...we have a good time. No one's looking for a commitment, and we both know what the boundaries are. Plus it's honest; I know what to expect." A second wave of nervousness hit, then. "I didn't think I-I'd be able to handle being on my own, but it's made me realize," Her expression saddened a bit, "I don't need Willow. Which scares me to death, because I thought it w-was a given. That I always would."

"Well, you weren't around for Angel, but believe me when I say, there was a time when he was my entire world. We're talking tunnel-vision to the point of absolute sureness that I couldn't survive without him. Only I am. Not in the greatest way, but I've figured out he can't just swoop in and fix everything, no one can; so long story short, he's in the 'I love you, but I'm not in love you' file cabinet these days." The slayer was trying her best to relate. "Is that where Will is?"

There was a long beat before Tara spoke the truth aloud, with some resignation. "I think so." Somewhere it shifted, and that was that. Beyond her control. "Goddess, she is. That's new."

Buffy automatically returned the earlier favor, offering a supportive, firm hug. "I wanna hear steady breathing; no hyperventilating on my watch." She rubbed Tara's back in slow circles while the sinking in passed. "Sneaks up on ya, doesn't it?"

"Uh huh. A little too well." Tara confirmed, following good instructions. "Wish it woulda made more noise. Tiny squeaks at the most."

The slayer wasn't going to subject her to another tale of "Angel Drama," but she couldn't help reflecting back again on being eighteen, on how badly she tried to make it work once he returned from Hell. Her body still wanted him, her brain was wary, and her heart was confused. But they were "Buffy and Angel"; he had a soul again. He was what all of her wanted to want, if that made sense.

When he ended their relationship in that sewer tunnel and she wept to Willow, it was more because she let herself know then, she was no longer in love with him. Not like she'd been pre-Angelus. And recognizing that was a painful experience--if your world isn't cutting it anymore, what are you supposed to do? A question which pounded relentlessly during the prom, during their dance that was as sweet as it was bitter.

She never did quite find a satisfactory answer, either. Releasing Tara, Buffy's eyes told the story well enough. They told the witch she understood firsthand, and that was the message she really wanted to convey. "Gonna be okay?"

"I might hafta dismount and stretch my legs." Tara responded, making Buffy's forehead crinkle. "Before getting back on the horse again...a-a second time." Comprehension came as a silent "Ah," and she added, "Thanks."

Pressure-less dates had passed the minutes nicely, but she wasn't ever sure what they were passing towards. Though she still wasn't, she was sure they weren't heading Willow's direction. Feelings and attraction existed at a respectful, fond, figurative distance--she had indeed moved on. Inside she was rather hectic, however.

"Haven't felt very helpful since I got back--I didn't know I missed it." The petite, resurrected woman kind of smirked at the odd disconnect that was her life. "But does this mean you and Willow aren't gonna re-couple if she beats her, uh, magick problem?" Beat. "Sorry. Stupid question." Just, knowing Willow's perspective...

Smartly gathering why it was posed, color began to drain from the witch's face. "Is...is that why she stopped? To win me back?"

"She may be hoping she can, yeah." Buffy called it as she saw it, because she'd gotten that vibe from the redhead in spades. "She also stopped cause of that whole night with Dawn, but you're tied on the list. I think she thinks you guys are temporarily--"

"No." Confidence rang in that small word. "I told her if she could stop for a week, I'd stay. I didn't want it to be an ultimatum, a threat like that, but she wasn't listening to anything else; I was worried, and...pretty desperate." Tara shook her head disappointingly at the next turn of events. "She couldn't even last a day. Instead she did that spell on everyone. So we'd forget. She m-manipulated my mind. Twice, without having any idea why it was wrong."

Her eyes were angry, yet another side Buffy hadn't seen. "When I left the house, it wasn't to teach her a lesson or to get her to quit casting--she already had that chance. It was for me. Coming to Sunnydale, I swore I w-wouldn't let somebody control me that way again. Not...after my dad." She smoothed out a wrinkle in her dress before resuming. "I'm happy Willow's doing what she's doing, but it should only be for herself. Her body absorbed lots of dark energy; once she finishes getting rid of it, she has to find a place to learn. Magick's part of her, she has to want to take the time to respect it, or she'll never..."

"Can't you--?"

"I can't be with her, Buffy. As much as I'd love to give in sometimes, and wish we weren't--"

"No, not..." The slayer got hung up on what words to use, and decided not to use any, bypassing it altogether. "Can't you tutor her? 'Friend' tutor?"

Tara silently apologized for jumping to conclusions, and had the grace to look sheepish. "Spending time with an experienced coven is her best choice. When she's ready."

"Does she know all that?" Buffy wondered. "Because she's one hundred percent magick-free, and isn't the keenest on bippity-boppity-booing. Past the cleansing period, or ever. No offense." The Cinderella reference sort of snuck in there.

"The Fairy Godmother's a positive role model--plus just a nice, old lady. So none taken." The three-dimensional witch said of the two-dimensional one, smiling. After a moment, returned to the matter at hand. "Willow probably doesn't. Know."

"She needs to, then. You should tell her." The Chosen One stared in a manner reserved usually for demons. A stare that said she wasn't backing down. "Everything." Thought. "Hey--at my party next week. You're coming, she's coming..."

She identified with Tara, she didn't begrudge the woman her choices, and had gained a good deal more respect for her tonight to go along with what'd been there. But Willow remained her best friend despite tough times, and she deserved to have all the facts, so she could try moving on as well. Short-term heart breakage was a sad side effect.

"We'll talk." Tara assured, then seized an opportunity. "That reminds me, Dawn thinks she found you the perfect present; she keeps saying how excited she is whenever we're out. I bet she-she'd give away a couple hints if you asked."

Ooh. Clever. Respect kept on climbing. Like that little man in the Price Is Right game.

"Okay, that's fair." Buffy accepted, ruefully. "I'm not in the running for the 'Bestest Big Sister of 2002' award. If there's a top fifty, I'm overshooting last place by a continent, and won't even rank this year."

"The year just started"

The blonde's eyes widened in disbelief, and her voice was laced with a tone Tara couldn't nail down. "Uh, remember that meltdown about an hour and a half ago? I'm pessimistic now. Terminally." Sighing, her mask withered. "Dawn wants me to be her sister: her never dead, never resurrected sister. But I don't know where that person is, and when Dawn wants to hang out and bond, I'm scared she'll talk to the unrecognizable substitute instead.

"I don't want that. I'm sorry she's upset, but it's better than the alternative." She pondered that. "Unless the alternative was Joan. She seemed to like Joan. Heck, I liked Joan--she was 'Older Buffy' without the five years of negativity build up, cause they were a downer. And she was perkier, don't forget. Naïve, but perkier." Before she succumbed to regret, she held it in for Tara's sake. To her, Willow's spell wasn't a violation. It was a welcome dream. "Joan isn't the alternative, though. The real one? That's hard to recognize? She feels ugly. Inside'n'out."

"Dawn doesn't need protection." Tara countered with her rebuttal. "She needs to feel useful, to know she matters. You don't have to share all the details with her, but trust her to handle the basics--she's grown up fast."

"Then why's she act so childish?" That was blunt. And snappish to a person who didn't deserve it. Buffy bit her tongue in penance. "Wasn't directed at you. It just...came out. Plus I think it was rhetorical." She trudged onward. "Even if I thought she could deal, I can't. First I hafta explain who I am to...whoever I am."

Tara was probably looking for a different result, one where she rose above her issues and decided to see Dawn in a new light. Buffy was conscious of how selfish she seemed, but it wasn't as if she enjoyed being lost to herself. She believed she would be no good to friends or family, until "Buffy" resurfaced. How to achieve that was a mystery to her, though the person she shared bench space with, had that even more mysterious idea.

"That's what morning's for." Tara didn't press her on Dawn. "Well, as a start. If-if it doesn't work, we'll try something else." A wordless stretch of crickets and car engines signaled that the evening had naturally run its course. She stood. "I should..."

"Leave me to avoid Willow?" Buffy queried with faux-innocence. "In case she comes home early?"

"An-and to let you get s-some sleep." Tara wasted zero time in adding. "I know you're tired."

The slayer had taken baby steps. She generally hated complaining to anyone other than herself about her problems; she dealt in private, sparing her friends to keep up the facade of strength. But Tara being Tara, angst was brought out with ease, and didn't make her feel weak. She wouldn't call this experience "cathartic" per se, because she wasn't exactly lighter and re-energized, but unleashing her dark secret and not being crucified for her actions was the first hurdle she had to clear.

Recovery wasn't guaranteed, but by choosing Tara, the odds had improved. She'd managed an intelligent decision--good omen? Or wishful thinking?

"You're right. I'm pooped." Came the agreement, and she pointed to her vocal chord area. "Don't have any 'heavy-talk' left in here."

"So go inside, go to bed...and dress warm tomorrow."

The shorter blonde smiled. "Want me to walk you?"

"To the driveway?" The witch said, mirthfully. "I'm sure I'll find it." While her friend blushed at the silliness of the offer, she had one more thing to say. "But, Buffy? You are absolutely not ugly; please don't believe that about yourself...you're-you're beautiful."

Blushing carried on, but was tempered with being flattered. "From a 'friend' viewpoint, or a 'gay woman' viewpoint?"

Tara's half-grin, more enigmatic than usual, more than she even realized, claimed her face muscles again. "Good night."

"Night, Tara." She'd do her the courtesy of not pressing, either.

Buffy watched her disappear around the side of the house, listened to the car pull away, and sat under the stars a couple more minutes before greeting her mattress with a bona fide, happy sensation that went straight to the bone; she was alone, yet the fire hadn't been completely snuffed. Encouraged by that, she banked on her internal clock wanting to go off in time for Tara, so she didn't bother with the alarm. Or the water.

Meanwhile, on the drive back to campus, Tara puzzled over what hell-spawn had possessed her back there, because she didn't seriously do that of her own volition.

* * *

Part Two

"The beach?" Buffy said with some confusion as Tara brought her car to a stop the next morning. "I was expecting a giant mountain with a monastery at the top. Or Disneyland."

"I don't think it's open." The driver pointed out, hoping her passenger wasn't too let down.

The slayer countered with, "Well, factor in the driving time, and by when we got there it would be. Ooh, and if you have a VIP pass, they let you in before everyone else." Then she had to dejectedly concede a sad truth. "Which I don't have. Yet. But someday." Unbuckling her seatbelt, she took a deep breath. "So...the beach it is." Her gloved hand reached for the door handle.

"Don't forget your coffee." Tara removed the Espresso Pump cup from the car's holder, and gave it to her company.

"If I'da known 'make coffee' meant 'buy coffee,' I would've given you money. Shoulda told me." Buffy blew through the lid's "drinking hole" to cool the liquid off. "Cause one of us obviously has a really sad grasp of the English language. Or, best case scenario, an out-of-date dictionary. With missing pages. That starts with 'Zork' and hasn't even heard of the letter G."

"We had a coffee machine in the common room, but when I woke up, it wasn't working."

"Or that. How scary's it gonna get later?"

"Um, well...the people who brought their own from home better have strong doors. And maybe a-a good spot to pray."

"So, caffeine-deprived, zombie madness." The petite blonde stated casually, following her friend outside and closing the door behind her. "Too bad. It's my day off." She took a sip. "Wow. That's perfect. And not just kind of. To a T."

Tara smiled, somewhat proudly, at Buffy's surprised look. "When we had 'Greek Art' last year? You'd usually bring a cup to class, and have three, sugar packets and a cream stuffed in your pockets. I guess I...j-just remembered."

"Yeah. To a T. Okay, that's my phrase of the day." With one step they were off the gravelly parking lot, and touching sand. They passed through a section of tall grass that exited onto the main beach, quietly consuming coffee until, "Let me pay you back for this."

"Sure, I could," Tara began, turning up the collar on her long, brown, wool coat and half-grinning, "but then today would be completely ruined."

Eye roll. "What's the plan exactly?"

"The, uh, first part? Treating you." 'Like a human being.' Her brain added. "And I, you know, like my plan. A lot." The wicca's mind was set. "Save your money, Buffy."

"Fine." Smile. "But next time we switch."

For some reason neither could place, hearing that sentence silenced them again. Arms across her chest, Buffy listened to seashell fragments crunch under Tara's boots, glad she'd followed the witch's wise instructions. Her leather jacket, white scarf, gloves and black, knit-cap fought off the early morning chill nicely. Despite red hues coloring the sky, the sun refused to heat them, still not having risen above the horizon.

Tara's coat took advantage of every, last button, acting as a snug shield. One hand rested in a pocket, leaving the other to hold her beverage. They were bare--she didn't use as many layers as her friend. A friend who would've been freezing. But she seemed content. Even more, she seemed radiant, long hair blowing lightly in the breeze like it was. With that quality going for her, Buffy guessed UV was sort of redundant.

Soon they were standing just shy of the encroaching and receding water, blue ocean before them, getting a big whiff of salt. "Phew." The slayer uttered, crinkling her nose. "Don't get me wrong, this is doing wonders for my sinuses, but other than that..."

"That's not the reason we came." Smirk. "Not that clear sinuses aren't totally important."

Buffy suddenly found herself listening to a lack of environment. There was no sound. The water's motions wouldn't make a whisper, and the commonplace noise of seagulls apparently wasn't so commonplace this morning. After a few minutes she turned around to view the beach, then swiveled her head to Tara, and the odd sense of déjà vu that bugged since leaving the car, forced her to sit down before she fell down. So she did, right on the sand. What did this remind her of?

"What's wrong?" Tara asked concernedly, crouching down beside her.

Blink. "Huh? Oh. Nothing. 'Mummy hand' moment." That was now the slayer's shorthand for every time she felt like she'd done something before. Except she immediately retracted her brush off, even though it had felt ridiculous. But then again, there was no "embarrassment worry" with Tara. "Or...maybe nothing. I'm remembering being someplace with you. I think. Someplace like here. And it was...I dunno." She let out a frustrated "grr." "Ignore the unstable slayer; her and reality aren't chatty today."

"Thank god." The witch's reaction brought forth a pained frown from Buffy. "N-no, this is why we came. More or less." She had her confirmation; the experience hadn't been hers alone, which was a long-delayed comfort. "Before anything else, I thought we n-needed to talk about it. We probably should've a long time ago, but it didn't...feel right."

"Talk about what?"

"When I was borrowed."

That was it. Recollection now spilled from Buffy's lips easily, the details coming to her in quick flashes. "Desert, anti-social first slayer, cheese guy with shaky symbolism..." She drew in a surprised breath. "That was really you? In my...? Get out."

"I wanted to; because she didn't, ask exactly." Tara moved from the crouch to a full on, Indian-style sitting position facing her friend. "I-I was just there, and what she made me tell you--"

"That slayers make great loner-types?" Came the rhetorical question. "Kinda not wrong."

"Maybe. But you chose not to just accept her history like the others did; you've kept people by your side. It's-it's brave, and smart, and right. Nobody should ever be alone." The arguably more stable twenty-something echoed her words from last night. "I hated being f-forced to say those things. I didn't believe any of it, and still don't."

Buffy could have replied with how she preferred solitary away-ness from her friends now, right or wrong, but that would've just been rehashing, doing neither of them any good. She also could have declined what sounded like an apology, telling Tara it wasn't her fault that she was hijacked and used by her primal relative, but that would've only dredged up the witch's history of being used and manipulated, again serving no purpose.

Instead she only asked, "Were you in Willow's dream, too? I mean, you were together at the time and sort of, uh, connected."

"If I was, it's because she dreamt me up, the way it's, usually supposed to happen. But it wasn't really me." Pause. "I was actually put in yours. I shouldn't remember it, but I do...every moment. And I'm s-sure I wouldn't have even made a crinkle in your regular dreams. I definitely wouldn't have been--"

"--real. Except you were. Because, hey, my insomnia would've been more normal than the 'sleeping' that night. To a freakishly scary degree." The slayer said, wryly. "Okay, so...why you? We barely spoke to each other back then. Why not Janet Reno? Or Dorothy Hamill?"

"I guess they were busy?" Smart-alecky Tara was something Buffy still had to get used to, and she could only roll her eyes again. "Dorothy Hamill?"

"I went through an 'ice-skating' phase. When your parents are falling apart, it's a good distraction; there should be an ad campaign. And now that I'm thinking, it probably would've been a healthier, less stressful one than the currently--that has a big, 'unhealthy violence and death' theme." The lost hero laughed hollowly at that, disbelieving how far she'd gone astray. "How's 'hindsight' work again?"

For what must have been the trillionth time, she fought the black mood as best she could. Had to focus on rebounding. For the next, several minutes both females watched the sun rise, feeling those first rays light their faces. Out on the ocean, the water sparkled, leaving Tara awed. Not for the first time, either. Buffy's reaction, however, amounted to indifference. Her mind knew that what she was seeing was beautiful, but her heart just didn't seem to care. Which was sad.

"This is what I wanted to show you." Tara eventually revealed, though her eyes were still focused beyond. "I know it's not what you were hoping for, and it might seem a-a little silly, but every morning I feel like I don't know why I should get up? I come here. When you have to face pretty horrible things almost every day, eventually it can hurt so much, the horrible things are all you start to notice.

"But here, or...out-out there, I mean," She gestured to the big, blue vastness that was the ocean, "always makes me think of The Lion King, and it, um, gives me perspective."

"They lost me after Beauty and the Beast." Buffy responded, rather confused as to where this was going.

"Oh." The blonde witch had thought that reference would explain it all, but it looked like she was going to have to plow through. "Well there's this song in it, called 'Circle of Life'? Which is kind of what the whole movie's about. This cute, lion cub..." She stopped herself quickly, because the movie itself wasn't the point. "And I should really finish the example I started with." She laughed at herself, wishing she'd written something down to make this easier.

"M'still onboard." The slayer assured her, putting a hand on her knee. "Don't worry, the concept sounds vaguely familiar. Life and death as a big cycle, stuff dies so other stuff can live...right?"

Tara nodded, very conscious of the hand touching her, even if it was gloved and over fabric. "All that's happening under the water. She doesn't realize it, but right now a fish is eating algae to get bigger and stronger so it can feed another fish, who can go feed his family; but first she'll have laid her eggs, and one day they'll hatch, then it'll start all over again. When you only look at the poor, mother fish, you never see the rest.

"It's sad that she gets gobbled, except that that lets everything else keep surviving. We're more complicated, yes...but I-I guess what I'm trying to say, is even though it seems bad now--and it wasn't 'til Sunnydale that I honestly understood--there are reasons. As long as you're willing to learn what the sad parts hafta teach, the happy parts do come back. Maybe not exactly the same, but, what doesn't change?"

Buffy worked that all around in her brain, as she drank more coffee. "So I need to believe there's a bigger picture and a light at the end of a tunnel, even if I can't see either of those things?"

"Yep." Okay, so her explanation took the winding route. But at least Buffy got the point. Now came the answer. "But I'll try to do my part. I think the reason the First Slayer chose me to be in your dream, is because she knew that I'm supposed to g-guide you, and took advantage." This felt like a nice juncture for her own coffee break.

The petite young woman wasn't surprised by Tara's theory. It fit--not in any way that could be rationally spoken aloud to anyone of course, but a definite intangible vibe existed. The first hint of it, if she thought back, was when she sat with the witch in the hospital on the day of her mother's death. It was a unique feeling then too, that the person beside her could somehow see her through the pain; that she understood before a word even got out. Not because there'd been a shared experience of loss, though there was, but because she was just...meant to.

She kind of dismissed it at the time, especially because it wasn't long after that Tara was taken from them by Glory.

Smiling, she again assured her friend that she wasn't alone in her thoughts. "Sure you want the job? Not that I don't appreciate the mystical whatever-they-ares for hiring you, but most of the time I'm like that guy who got stuck pushing that huge boulder up the hill and never stops."

Tara stood, and replied as she helped Buffy up. "I'm okay with pushing--more muscle-y than I look."

"Funny, so am I." They went further down towards the tide, and walked along right where it began to recede. As they did, Buffy considered her ancient predecessor, leading to something finally clicking, and she breathed, "Damn."

"What?" The witch asked.

"The First Slayer. That's who I feel like these days. A demon warrior girl, who forgot how to be normal, and wants to shove 'Buffy' completely out of the way." Voicing that revelation, her brow furrowed concernedly. "And that might be literally." It went a long way towards explaining her present routine and attitude.

Maybe it even explained Spike to an extent.

"Then we shove back and kick her ass." Tara's toughness and mildly-blue language emerged because her friend's realization meant that her choice for a first step bore fruit, which made her think that maybe she could really be there for her companion.

Buffy found herself laughing, and even catching a bit of the enthusiasm--she considered dubbing it, "The Tara Effect." "What's next then, Zagat?"

"You want me to recommend a restaurant?" That headed toward "dating" territory again.

The slayer turned red at her flop of a joke. "See? She's killed my punning ability! It's getting hopeless."

"Small steps, sweetie." Tara told her, and after finishing off her coffee, she linked their arms in support. "But, next is the party. It'll let you relax and just be with your family, which'll be good for you."

"And have cake and presents." The smaller blonde added. "I remember 'Buffy' liking cake and presents."

"That too." The taller grinned while Buffy swallowed the last of her coffee as well.

A few more feet passed before they decided to turn back to go to the car, though Buffy had one more thing to ask. "So...how did Sunnydale prove to you that badness has a reason? Because in this town? Usually 'badness' doesn't need a reason for occurring. It just does."

Tara prepared her words carefully. "If my father and my-my brother treated me better, if my mom didn't teach me a-about magick, if she didn't...die when she did," Just because she saw the bigger picture now, the events that crafted it didn't hurt any less, "I wouldn't have left home. I wouldn't have met Willow, I wouldn't have loved her, and I'd probably still believe I was a demon. I also wouldn't have been made a Scooby, or been able to help keep people safe. Buffy, when you accepted me, wh-when you all did, that was th-the best day of my life. I never thanked you for that."

Well that solidified the slayer's understanding pretty handily. "Don't have to. You're kind, awesome, and slightly quirky--which, plus. You belong with us, Tara; all I did was make it official. But I'm thanking you." She said, with eyes that wanted no argument. "For this morning, and future mornings. I'm lucky t'have you to turn to, and the quiet strolling was...is nice." Considering they weren't done yet. "Even though I'm still not past the dead, mama fish and picturing the ocean as 'that deep, soggy place you drown in,' I do get the philosophy. Hopefully someday soon we'll share."

An embarrassed wicca said the only thing she could say. "You're welcome." Back at the car, however, she had recomposed. "Before I drop you off at the house, how about I treat you to breakfast? I know a great diner that's open this early."

"Hah! 'Zagat'...to a T. Knew it'd pay off." Buffy sighed contentedly as Tara giggled. "Hey, silver lining."

* * *

-Bath, England, Present-

Night had fallen. They spent half the day talking with Tara, not wanting to let her out of their sight. Buffy still didn't, which was why she sat beside the witch on her living room couch, in front of the active fireplace, wide-awake. Everyone else--with the noticeable exception of Kennedy and Willow--had gone to sleep. Her sister's head rested in Tara's lap, and Dawn snored away contentedly.

"I can't believe how--" Tara began to utter.

Buffy finished for her. "--taller, prettier and more trendy than me she's gotten? Thanks for pointing that out." Mock-glare. "But legally, she has six more months of 'jailbait' status, so watch it."

Tara blushed crimson. "You kn-know I'd never..."

"I do--again, teasing." The petite blonde grinned broadly--she missed Tara so much. Then came the unmistakable sound of Willow moaning from upstairs. "Which Kennedy apparently stopped doing." They were both blushing now. "Can't say no to a tongue-stud...s'what I hear, anyway." Literally.

"Wow." Willow's ex was rather impressed.

Throat clearing. "Wanna go to the kitchen? Away from the acoustic happies of comfort-sex?"

Nodding readily, Tara eased herself off the couch so as not to wake Dawn. She put a pillow under the girl's head, then took the blanket draped over the back of the couch, and laid it over her. Around Tara, Buffy noticed a transformation in her sibling. Willow was like another sister, but Tara had always been a surrogate mother to Dawn.

Buffy gripped Tara's hand, and gave one, last look up at the ceiling. "That's why Xander lives back in the basement."

Well, that was partially true. He also had his workshop down there. It was his sanctuary of maleness in a house full of women. Women he cared deeply for, but he needed a space to call his own. Where sounds had to pass through two floors and died before reaching him, meaning he could get his necessary Zs.

The witch stifled laughter with her unoccupied palm, and they headed to the kitchen. Wasn't anything overly fancy about it, it just was larger than Buffy's in Sunnydale, giving more room to maneuver during the breakfast and dinner rushes. Crossing its threshold, Tara wondered, "Have any hot chocolate?"

"Practically always." The slayer smiled again, enjoying the déjà vu. She realized then, that to get the drinks, she'd have to sacrifice her hold on Tara. "Hmm. K, promise me you aren't, like, 'The Touchable Ghost of Groundhog Day' now, and won't disappear, and I'll let go." Her tone was light, her eyes serious.

"I promise." Tara spoke sincerely, but her friend remained hesitant. "Everything I said is...it's the truth, Buffy. I wouldn't come here and lie to everyone. To Dawn." Her voice got softer. "Especially not to you--not af-after everything you've been through. I promise." She squeezed her hand, and then slowly smirked. "Besides, you um, would've been able to tell if I did. I'm pretty b-bad at telling stories."

"Remind me to let you meet Andrew." Buffy said sardonically, and their hands separated.

She went to gather the teapot, while Tara asked, "Mugs?"

"Top left." Buffy pointed to the cabinets as she filled at the sink.

The returned woman moved to grab a couple. "Um, so...w-why is it comfort sex?" When Buffy looked at her with a "huh?" expression, she gestured upwards, "Willow and Kennedy."

Cough. "Oh, uh, I-I dunno. It was just a guess." Buffy replied. "I mean, she went all 'Uber-Bad' and killed Warren, because he killed you. Spent a long time coming back from that, and she knows how wrong it was, but I think part of her probably still justified it...in an, 'eye-for-an-eye' way." She sat the pot on the stove and turned on the burner. "But now you're alive again, and, she might be feeling...not so justified anymore." Beat. "She'll be okay, though; Kennedy's been great to her. In bed and out of."

Tara frowned some, thinking about Willow going through that guilt because of her, but it turned into a bit of a smile. "I knew she'd find someone." She sat the mugs on the counter beside the oven, then guessed where the packets were.

"Kennedy kinda found her. All signs pointed to 'rebound.'" Buffy smirked, leaning back against the counter to face Tara--who guessed right--while the water heated. "Shows how much I understand relationships."

She watched Tara retrieve the milk carton from the fridge, place it by the mugs, and then empty the cocoa mix into them. It was still sinking in that yes, Tara was genuinely here. Though embarrassed when she saw she had an audience, Tara half-grinned regardless. Hazel eyes darted away. They were right next to each other.

"So you believe me? About what happened?" Tara needed to be sure.

Buffy's gaze refocused. "Believing isn't the issue. You could tell me puppies are gonna cause the next apocalypse, and there'd be no questioning." There was zero trace of a joke in there. "But it's like you said. After everything--the First showing up wearing the faces of people we cared about, and knowing resurrections have steep downsides--I keep expecting the other shoe. 'Cause when you don't, that's usually when it drops on your head." Tara's case was different, but still. "Tara, you being here is," Body-relieving sigh, "honestly? The next, best thing to getting my mom back. The universe is being nice...since when is the universe nice?"

"Well, it wasn't the universe really. Cordelia's the only reason I...got the chance."

That alone made the slayer's head spin. "I wish I coulda known her, post-high school." Her grateful smile had a dash of regret as well. She'd only heard tales of the ex-cheerleader's maturity--had never seen it. News was, Cordelia died in her sleep a week ago; she hadn't ever emerged from a mystical coma. "Wish I coulda thanked her, too."

"I w-won't ever say it enough, but, I have every day." Tara revealed. "She gave up her life so I could have mine back."

Both reabsorbed the weight of that for a moment.

"The Lion King' was a very wise movie." Buffy spoke first, suddenly remembering the "Circle" talk, and it clearly applied.

Tara remembered too, chuckling. "Yeah."

In the lull following, each became aware of their relative closeness, and Buffy found herself spontaneously hugging Tara for the fifth or sixth time today (she'd lost count), and Tara made it mutual for the fifth or sixth time. Neither of them could help it; it was almost a pull, a need to stay in contact. Might've been their bodies way of not letting them put off what, in hindsight, they shouldn't have a couple years ago.

The women were in the miraculous position to have another shot, so mid-hug, Buffy just came out with it. "All right--somebody hasta start kissing somebody, here."

* * *

-Sunnydale, March 2003-

Willow was standing over the Summers' living room couch, folding the household laundry and placing it back in the basket, which Buffy sat opposite of. Considering the household was packed with a bunch of teenaged girls who had the potential to become the next "Chosen One," the pile was a bit on the "immense" side. However, the chore was "everyday" and relaxing, and it allowed she and Buffy to talk; something they didn't really get a chance to do anymore.

Buffy had a date with her boss tonight. He was principal of the new Sunnydale High, and all reports were, he seemed cool and pleasant. The problem was, he could be evil, as his office was situated right over the Hellmouth. So this first date was half-motivated by wanting to have a nice evening, and half-motivated by wanting to uncover any possible threat. Willow had already had her first date. With Kennedy, the oldest Potential.

It ended disturbingly, whereby she was forced to become and confront Tara's killer. Through Kennedy's help, she did, and the healing process continued. Felt like she'd turned a corner. She'd made her peace and finally moved on--they were a couple now.

Tara had broken up with her long before she was killed, but Willow hadn't really put herself out there again. As a result, when the tragedy occurred, Willow snapped more than she might have. She lost herself in dark magick, and it escalated beyond revenge--she'd very nearly destroyed the world. Thank god for Giles and Xander, who both worked in their own ways to bring her back from the brink.

After it was over, she heeded Giles' advice (advice Tara had given months prior), and went with him to England where she trained with a Coven over the summer. But this wasn't about her personal trials and tribulations. This was about her best friend's date.

"Buff, if he's really interested," Willow said with an excited smile, "are you interested back?"

Blush. "I don't know." Buffy hadn't given it much thought from her end. "He's good-looking, and he's-he's solid, he's smart, he's normal. So, not the wicked energy, which is nice 'cause I don't want to only be attracted to wicked energy. Or what if he is wicked, in which case, is that why I'm attracted to him?"

"I'm gonna wait for that sentence to come around again before I jump on." The redhead quipped. "But if he gets all check-pluses in the 'Not Evil' column, why wouldn't you be? You haven't dated since Riley. Oughta get back on the horsie." The slayer didn't respond--she seemed lost in her head somewhere. "Didcha notice how I totally skipped over Spike?"

"Why's everyone in this house...?" Buffy began exasperatedly, but trailed off. She wanted to date, had been wanting to. Had a person in mind and everything, only that ship sailed. She probably shouldn't say these next, several sentences, because it could damage a long-standing friendship, but Willow was the only one who'd understand. "Will, I...I wouldn't because, uh, there's this problem where...he isn't Tara."

"Who is?" Willow asked rhetorically, and then dropped the socks she was holding. "Wai...huh?"

Buffy reached down for the socks that had escaped, and picked at them so she wouldn't have to look Willow in the eye. "Y'know how she was helping me find, um, me, last year?" The witch nodded mutely, but she didn't see it. "First I thought it was a 'patient/psychiatrist crush' type deal--and it's sad that that's the best analogy--but, after Riley blew back into town and I ended things with Spike, and started to feel...connected again, how I was feeling about Tara didn't leave. It set up shop.

"Got to where, if she wasn't in my day at some point, the day fell short of 'good.'" Willow had been there. "Was happy just being in the same room. Didn't even hafta talk. But I could forever when we did, and-and her hugs...god. 'Tara Hugs.'" The blonde looked at the redhead, then. "I might maybe have possibly been sort of somewhat in love with her. And it's kinda continuing."

"Oh." Came Willow's even more dumbstruck reaction. "Really?"

"Yep. Really." Buffy echoed, still not able to gauge how this was being taken. "Never acted on, though. You were deep in the 'coping' stage, and it just...would've been a bad. Plus, 'awkwardness' loves piggybacking on rejection, which I didn't wanna risk." She exhaled. "The general plan was, once stuff settled and you had somebody new, we'd have a conversation almost exactly like this, you'd say it was okay, and I'd ask her out.

"Then, dinner at the most upscale-sounding place my wallet could afford, wearing my most expensive-looking outfit. And the night'd go great--a.k.a., 'be normal.' As defined by every dictionary not made in Sunnydale." Wasn't exactly a surprise that her perfect date was simple. "Finally capping with--"

"Smoochies?" Willow completed, beginning to grin. "From 'Tara Lips'?" She let herself remember how it felt, closing her eyes. "Kennedy'll kiss for hours, but Tara knew how to make just one? Feel like hours."

Buffy pouted, not doubting that. "At Xander and Anya's not-wedding? With the dresses that were probably designed by a colorblind, Slurnix demon?" She sidetracked a moment. "Ooh, hey...'cause they hermit in yak butts and only need an air-refill every other decade, bet that explains the style-impairment." The redhead blanched at the visuals she was seeing. "Anyway, Tara? Yeah, still looked amazing...she looked amazing in pretty much anything."

Willow was going to concur, but then she started giggling. "We-we should ask Anya if the demon looked like a yak-ass."

That got Buffy going. It couldn't be verified, but its likely there was a snort or two in the mix. Why? Who knows? It wasn't that funny.

After collecting themselves, Buffy dried her eyes with a sock and asked, "How come no yelling at?"

"Because she was super easy to fall in love with." Willow replied now that the surprise was over, but looked grumpily at the used sock. "Can't blame you." The smitten look on the blonde's face was all-too-familiar. "Sure, seeing her with anybody who wasn't 'me-shaped' woulda been hard, but Tara happy and you happy? All I ever wanted. And if that meant two of my most favorite people being together, then woo."

Seeing Buffy smile a smile of both gratitude and "What could've been," and seeing peepers well up, Willow moved to embrace and comfort her friend. "No, no crying. 'Cause then I definitely will, and...and then all our socks are gonna be soggy. Nobody likes soggy socks."

Buffy laughed thickly into the redhead's shoulder. "Nothing wrong with 'Willow Hugs,' either."

"Well, I practice lots." Willow joked, pulling back, and scooching next to Buffy on the couch. "I want her to be here too, Buffy. She...she was Tara." And that was plenty explanation. "Now I don't get to tease, or-or coach..." The slayer's eyebrows went up-- 'Coach?' "She woulda felt so lucky, and it woulda been so fun."

"That's what my imagination was hoping. Shame the universe has a policy about sucking at the worst times ever." Buffy griped, beginning to visibly mope and be the quiet masochist she was at her core.

The universe was just a stand-in, so Willow wouldn't know where she truly rested the blame. Shame her face sold her out.

"Jump off the 'guilt train'; as soon as like, this second." Willow's face quickly bore her honed look of resolve. "I'm writing the conductor an angry email. In all caps. Wait'll he sees how emphatic my text is." Then just as quick, her features softened. "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault except mysonystic Warren's, and whoever taught him being like that was neato." Pause. "Trust me--learned the tough way."

"Willow, if I caught him at the amusement park, or wasn't out back when Xander came by to talk...if-if I hadn't asked her to move back in..."

Sigh. The witch had been friends with Buffy long enough to realize nothing she said could change her mind, so she tried a different tack. "Know what she'd tell you?"

Buffy certainly did. "To stop. Because life's full of 'tragic'n'unfair,' no matter what we do. But I hafta keep reminding myself that reasons exist for why."

"Also that you're a dummy."

"Probably."

The petite blonde understood that Tara dying sent Willow over the edge, which was the thing that brought "Buffy" one-hundred percent back. She felt fear, and worry, and love for her friend. All thought was about wanting to help. Willow survived, and needing her "veiny self" to never appear again finally got her taking the extra step towards the Coven. Facing her problem instead of pretending it was something she could quit.

So fine, there reasons were. But why'd Tara's death need to be the catalyst? Why that extreme? And the purely selfish part of Buffy was stuck on why they couldn't have just been given a chance.

* * *

-Bath, England, Present-

Turns out, the answer was because an unlikely messenger for the Powers had given them one now. No, Buffy didn't think Cordelia's sacrifice was driven by a desperate, last wish to play matchmaker from on high or anything, but nevertheless, it did open a door that would've otherwise stayed permanently locked. Better late than a lifetime of never.

If Buffy had been in Cordelia's situation, just meeting Tara and learning the circumstances of her death would've made the decision all that much easier. Though she'd admit to carrying a hefty bias around. That was getting weightier and weightier, because Tara was kissing her. Just the way Willow said.

She didn't take the act of, for granted. Nor was there rushing--every second got used up to its fullest. Tara took as much care with kissing as she did everything else; it was about giving, making the kissee feel how much they were loved. Slow, calming and constant, maximizing all possible points of lip contact. And it spread throughout, until bone-deep, leaving you very...at peace. Big, powerful emotion and the toe-curling physical--undoubtedly worth the wait.

Those not wanting to do Tara's technique justice, might say she kissed like she had all the time in the world, and cliché aside, they'd be mistaken. If shorthand was absolutely necessary, then Buffy would say Tara's technique was that of someone who knew how precious and fleeting the concept was, and how important it was not to waste. In fact, nobody grasped better, given what she'd experienced.

Buffy hadn't expected her to initiate. At least not without warning. Once bearings returned however, she was kissing back, following her fellow blonde's example and lead. Unfortunately, the teapot chose to whistle rather interrupting-ly. The slayer of course made a valiant effort to turn off the stove by reaching blindly behind her for the knob so they didn't have to stop, but the effort was not succeeding.

Irked, she spun away from pleasant lips, turned the knob, and roughly "escorted" the teapot to a burner that wasn't hot. "That's it--rest of my life? I'm vowing to destroy every teapot I lay an eye on; don't see any other choice. They're obviously evil, so its my duty to slay 'em. Violently." During this proclamation, she'd faced Tara again, who was amused as well as nervous. But Buffy's dazed grin, as she seemed to fall right back into the previous moment, wiped the nervousness away. "Fire pretty, tree bad."

Tara smirked, and was a tad pleased with herself. "Sometimes."

Laughter bubbled up out of Buffy, and she smacked her new, hopefully sooner-rather-than-later, girlfriend. "Thank you." Hearing the sincerity in those two words, Tara became bashful. "'Course, everything's happening totally backwards, but I don't exactly mind adjusting. There're worse ways to screw up a plan."

"I forgot," The witch lightly touched Buffy's arm, "you wanted to go to dinner."

"Yeah, I...hey." Before Buffy made it very far into her reply, she realized something didn't add up. "How'd you know that? You weren't even..." Then it came to her. "You watched us, didn't you? When you were being...higher being-y."

"There wasn't, um, much else to do." Tara attempted to look shamed for, in essence, spying, but she couldn't quite muster it. "And it's why I said yes when Cordelia came. I wanted to at least be able to see everyone. Eve-even if I couldn't be there."

"You know, now that I'm mulling, s'very 'Tara.' Selfless, considerate, sweet." Buffy was most assuredly love's bitch. Thing was, she didn't find anything negative about that. Their hands found each other yet again. "But wasn't it hard to leave? Or...oh. Was your heaven dimension defective?"

Tara shook her head. "Nope. It was nice, just--"

Dawn walked sleepily into the kitchen right then, somehow remarkably perceptive after her once-over of the blondes. "I knew it."

The elder sister's eyes rolled at the younger, who Tara turned to acknowledge. "You knew squat."

"Did so." The brunette retorted, and then spotted the mugs. "Can I have some?"

"Sorry, strictly a 'Date' batch. For people on dates. Like me. And Tara. Finally." Buffy deprived, and saw Tara's curious glance out of the corner of her eye--the witch wasn't aware that what they were doing had such a label. "Go with it."

"Geez, sorry, Tara." Dawn addressed her with a frown, shaking her head.

"What for?" Tara quizzically wondered.

"For my sister." The frown morphed into a wry grin. "Being so-not-unbelievably cheap."

Buffy's jaw set. "One, I'm 'thrifty'." She corrected, emphasizing the distinction. "Two, the blizzarding? Outside? Had to improvise. And three, why aren't you asleep?"

"Teapot woke me up."

Tara really couldn't believe this older Dawn. "But upstairs didn't?" Referring to the now quieting utterances of alternative, sexual bliss.

"No way--I had a room down the hall from you and Willow for half a year, almost. Became like, my lullaby." Dawn kept going, unaware at first of Tara's crossed arms and a stare that got continually more disapproving. "Besides, you guys were way louder. It was freaking n..." Dawn heard her sister's throat clear, which directed her attention to the blonde witch. "...nothing I oughta be retelling any people ever. Sorry, Tara." She looked sheepish and chastised. "Copied loud'n'clear. Uttingshay upway about really private stuff." Pointed out the way she'd come. "Heh. Whaddaya know? Time for us broken Keys to find our beds. Night, sis."

Buffy smirked and waved. "Night, Dawnie."

Dawn was going to just say the same to Tara and be off, but she ran to her and crushed her waist in a bear hug instead. "I am so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so so happy you're back. I feel like a Disney movie on tainted, designer drugs. Seriously. You have no idea." She felt Tara's hand brush along her hair, and said innocently, "Never thought I'd eat your pancakes again."

The witch smiled. "Ohh...see? Shoulda known there was a motive. All makes sense now." Dawn released her, still looking innocent. "Want me to cook you some for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Yes, please. Funny shapes." Then the teen stared at her sister untrustingly. "If Buffy stops hogging you all to herself and lets the rest of us have 'Tara Time.'"

Buffy's look in return unconvincingly said, 'I have no clue what you're talking about.'

"With me or my food?" Tara could tell the girl thought she was in trouble again, so she took pity on her. "Your nose'll smell 'em soon as you get up in the morning. Sleep cozy."

"You too." Dawn grinned like she expected something to happen when she left. "I'm sure you will. God knows you both dated enough times already."

"Those weren't dates." Buffy and Tara spoke immediately in unison, as if they'd had to tell her that before.

"Whatever." Shrugging at them like it made no never mind to her, she then finally walked out of the kitchen.

"Ready for hot chocolate?" Buffy queried after a noticeable stretch of silence.

Silence they used to consider the younger Summers' words. Those times spent together were to help Buffy. They weren't dates...were they?

Tara didn't want to ask this, but she didn't see any way around it. "Isn't the water probably cold again?"

It had been off the burner even before Dawn came in.

"Damn, evil teapot." Buffy had that "slayerly" gleam in her eye.


	2. Part Three

-Outside Sunnydale, Past Rte. 17, March 2002-

"You okay? Want me to walk you to your car?" Buffy asked the young, twenty-something who almost, unknowingly walked out of the ice-rink on a vampire's arm.

And, one would assume, on his dinner menu. Though since he'd just crumbled to dust by the front doors, there was no longer any danger of that happening. Buffy was just glad she'd managed to keep balance wearing skates on carpet, therefore allowing her to slay without the embarrassment of falling.

"No, I...I'm...it's, um, right out front." The girl blinked out of her shock. "You just saved my life, didn't you?" Before her savior could say anything, she started hugging her strongly. "Thank you."

When Buffy was let go, she smiled, uncomfortable with the attention. "Just remember--from here on in? Always do a 'pulse check' before progressing to the heavy flirting."

The girl nodded like a rapt student. She was still a little thrown, but left under her own power after giving Buffy a grateful smile. Carefully, the slayer turned back around to face her audience of rink patrons, who'd watched the whole thing. Guess being embarrassed wasn't something she could escape tonight.

"Rabies." She lied off the top of her head. "Uh, very advanced, very dusty, very worse than 'Old Yeller,' rabies. Worst in years, actually. Musta heard--can't turn on the news lately without somebody talking about it. Even that one weather guy in the morning who obviously doesn't know what a comb is." Nothing. "So...yeah. Everybody's pets have all their shots, right? 'Cause..." She looked down at the ashes, and then back up. Still nothing. "Was I the only one who paid to be in here?"

Suddenly, all were scrambling to get their money's worth, leaving Tara there all alone. She went up to Buffy and stayed close as the slayer moved to a bench, in case loss of equilibrium seemed imminent. It never was, but she assisted with sitting anyway, and then the laughter she'd been containing, burst forth.

Buffy stood by her elaborate concoction. "What? Rabies is serious. People should be wary. And didn't you see him? Extreme mouth foaminess." Tara just laughed harder, sitting down next to her. "It's amazing how much you suck." Buffy couldn't prevent a smile from forming, and bent down to unlace her skates.

The first suckage was two months ago at her birthday party. Tara had silently begged her friend to stay when Willow came downstairs, but Buffy bolted. In the kitchen, after not being able to speak anything of consequence (even after all that rehearsing), she downed a cup of water and breathlessly commented to Buffy, "You suck."

Minutes later, however, Tara was able to get a little payback. She didn't supply Buffy with an excuse for why she couldn't entertain Xander's friend from work, which she was clearly searching for. Before the birthday girl showed the guy a place to park, she quietly commented back, "You suck more."

The real kick in the pants? Tara had been right about Dawn. Buffy could've stopped any wishes that led to being trapped in houses, just by showing Dawn she mattered. At the end of it all, Buffy had learned her lesson--listening to Tara was something to do more of--but that didn't mean the witch didn't suck. Because she did.

"I was thinking the same about you. I t-told you I probably couldn't skate." Tara said frowningly, moving to unlace her skates as well, and blocking the pain her rump was in.

"Probably. Means you never tried, so I was teaching you. Only badly." Buffy smiled guiltily, but wasn't done. "And hey, here was your idea. Tons of other options existed for celebrating 'Buffy's Self-Respect' making a comeback--most of which, okay, required some 'balance/coordination' skills. To begin with. Just never on frozen water." She threw her arm around Tara's shoulders once she was free of the skates, and asked with deep concern, "How's your ass feel, by the way?"

Tara gave her an odd look. "I don't really..." Despite that, a grin spread. "But...but you could ask Willow."

Buffy knew Tara's game. Whether their friendship brought it out, or if the wicca just turned on her playful streak once she became more comfortable with any person, Buffy couldn't be sure, but she was long past shock. She'd throw it right back.

"I've considered. But then I remember the time Riley said she threatened him with a shovel. Or...huh. Maybe it stayed verbal--I forget. Anyway, call my belly yellow if you hafta, but if you think I'm going to ask her what her ex-girlfriend's ass is like, brain cells have gone missing." With their skates off, they went to exchange for their shoes. "And I like mine where they are, thanks."

Tara had eventually--due to the supernaturally long length of the birthday party--made certain Willow understood it was over. Willow pretended to have known so all along, apparently, but was never a good fibber. What softened the blow was Tara's encouragement and approval on the magick front.

The once lovers were definitely still adjusting to the limits of friendship, but from Buffy's outsider perspective, it was going well. For everyone. She'd quit her "Spike" addiction (ergo, celebrating), Willow's confidence returned a little bit more each day (especially as she devoted herself to school, something she could get a firm handle on), Xander was six days away from marriage, and because everybody around her was happier, so was Dawn.

But Willow wasn't near happy enough for her to take a question like that in good humor. Hell no. Joke or not, Buffy was getting far away from it. She continued speaking as her sneakers were given back, and held out a wrist.

"But weren't you listening? Pulse, then flirt. Those're the rules."

Tara thanked the shoe-keeper for hers, and then said to Buffy, "If I was flirting? You wouldn't have to go to Willow to f-find out what you wanna know."

Buffy gave Tara credit. Her on purpose, slightly nervous delivery with a sprinkle of stutter, made her a better fibber than Willow. And because of Willow, it wasn't the time to be admitting anything. When it was time to tell her redheaded, best friend she was attracted to Tara? She'd play clueless as to whether it was mutual. Else Willow wouldn't believe that all these friendly excursions and meet-ups weren't dates. They weren't, but one could view them that way if inclined.

Buffy lowered her arm with an exaggerated pout, while Tara giggled. "K, you win." Beat. "So, uh, why this place? If you knew you weren't gonna enjoy." She got her sneaks on by the "hopping on one foot" method, while her companion sat again to do it more safely.

"Who said I wasn't?" Tara wondered, and then turned to answering the question. "I guessed, since you had a crush on Dorothy Hamill? Maybe skating wasn't always j-just a distraction; that's only how you remember it, because of your..." Her parents. Buffy found only one thing to object to in that assessment, but Tara spoke again before she could. "Anybody as talented as you are h-has to love it."

"Eh, maybe I coulda been." The slayer was shy about her ability. "My dad wanted to get me a coach and everything. Except that woulda meant being away from him and Mom. Probably for years. And since I was daddy's little girl, ciao Olympic dreams." She smirked, then just shrugged. "Besides, I think I was already too old. What stinks the most, is I missed out on inventing 'Ice Slaying' and being on Wheaties boxes."

"I bet a lot of kids would've eaten theirs thanks to you." Tara amusingly smiled, as she tied her boots.

"And then, had nightmares about vampires who came to their house to steal their cereal and bite their parents." Buffy quipped lightly, then it was time: "But I did not have a crush." With that cleared up, she pulled Tara to her feet. "How bout air-hockey?"

* * *

"What're you thinking about?" Tara asked Buffy just after she had gotten yet another goal.

She was going moment by moment with this "guide" role. All she could think to do was take Buffy places where she could enjoy herself, remember what it felt like, and see that fun was around to be had in life. She also went on a lot of patrols, getting Buffy to speak about the primal nature of the forces slaying stirred inside her. Making sure she didn't internalize, didn't suffocate herself with them.

Walking away from Spike was a huge step in the right direction, but Buffy was by no means finished re-acclimating to the world. Tara saw the contemplative, distracted look on the slayer's face, and knew what put it there, only she wanted her to say. They were alone in the small game room (everyone else kind of ran for cover), so there was no excuse for her not to.

The witch recognized the silent question of "What else?" in the slayer's eyes, and listened as the words came without struggle or hesitation. "About how many girls that vampire got to kill or turn because of all those nights I wasn't here, and--"

"--back home saving someone else?" Tara gently interrupted.

Buffy got the plastic puck out of the holder on her side, and placed it back at center. "'Superhero complex,' can't help it."

Tara's lips quirked into a grin. "Well, you are a superhero, so..." Buffy hit the puck and they started to play again, the puck gliding back and forth over the surface. "It-it's good, though. I mean, you shouldn't blame yourself, but you do because you care. That's what will always make you different from her."

The puck zigzagged its way into Buffy's goal again. "Yeah, the First Slayer would've been able to block that. Damn." She reset the puck once more.

The woman who was up 3-1 wasn't focused on that just now. "She was a killer; you're a protector. You go out every night for people l-like that girl. Not the vampires." Her tone politely demanded full attention. "She's part of you, of-of your power, but it's why you use it that she'll never completely have control. You feel. You're human--whether you realize yet or not."

"Thanks to the constant reminders, I think that's slowly seeping in."

Tara ducked her head somewhat. She hoped she wasn't being too overbearing with this stuff. She didn't want to be like one of those professors on campus who drone on so much about the same topic that you eventually tune them out. If that's what was happening, and Buffy backslid, she wouldn't ever forgive hers--

Then the puck came an inch away from scoring on her, however, she held it at bay. She looked up with a disbelieving glower. "That was so mean."

"What part? I like the constant--'mean' isn't what I was going for. And c'mon, you weren't looking...an opening begged to be seized. Only not really, 'cause it still didn't go in." Buffy griped. "You're like an air hockey god...dess." She amended that last bit on the fly. "You know I appreciate and need reminding. Keep it up till you can't stand me anymore. Please." Who could resist the "puppy dog" look? "Oh, and I know the 'disappearing into your shell' thing is rare these days, but when it does happen? Can't see you--then I get 'sad face.'" She demonstrated. "So don't hide. No matter what I say that comes out wrong and moron-like. Okay?"

The puck came speeding toward her right then, and Buffy couldn't even mount a defense.

"Okay." Tara agreed with a deceptive smile, like nothing had just occurred.

For the first time, she realized Buffy had been helping her too, over these past, couple months.

"See? Way to seize." Buffy sighed. "How're you this good?"

"Donny taught me when we were little." The taller blonde had few happy memories from childhood featuring the males of her family, but that was one. "We had a table in our basement. It was supposed to be a game room, but Dad never got it finished."

"Wild guess--'like father, like son' kicked in around puberty?"

Tara didn't miss the dark edge to what she hoped was a rhetorical question, but for her, all that was in another life. They weren't her family, not in any way that counted, and they had no power over her. She might as well have been talking about people from a history book. She could recite the relevant details, but had no attachment to them whatsoever.

Buffy appeared bummed by her unaffectedness. "You aren't gonna join in on the being mad at 'em, are you?"

"Just can't anymore, even if I should be." The witch shrugged.

An admiring smile betrayed Buffy's faux-annoyance. "Fine, be well adjusted." A couple seconds later, she had puck in hand, and asked, "Think you could teach me? Gotta be better at imparting than I am."

"Why, because you suck?" Tara jibed, and was treated to a "Ha, Ha" face. "I might, too. But at least there isn't much risk of hurting your--" She began, walking around to the other side of the table by her friend.

The petite blonde reddened. "How many times do I need to apologize, Tare? Jesus cripes." She was being tortured with it, because Tara was entertained.

"Cripes?" Tara repeated back to her, brow arched and lips grinning.

Buffy didn't respond to that. "I don't know why I'm even asking," She muttered after a beat, and then raised her voice, "but, wanna go shopping with Dawn and me tomorrow? Afternoon...ish? It won't break our," Gestured between herself and Tara, "tradition." She promised.

Since the beach, having coffee together in the morning was something they'd made a daily habit of. Two friends meeting for coffee. 'Innocent,' Tara told herself for the thousandth time.

People could have coffee without it being a date. Sure, Buffy was beautiful, and a bit of a goof once you got to know her, and yeah, it was pretty endearing, because Buffy didn't know it was. But just because she was single and gay, didn't mean she--

"We have to get Xander and Anya a present." Buffy continued. "Five days before their wedding. Wait till the last minute--that's the family motto."

"Dawn, um," Tara left her head as gracefully as possible, "wants me to come?" She didn't want to intrude on any sisterly bonding.

"She's claiming I see you more than she does, and hasn't let me forget this, quote, 'totally true and totally unfair' fact, so I'd say the answer's duh." Buffy confirmed, smirking. "If you have plans, though--like, 'date' plans, or school stuff--don't cancel for us. I know I'm cramping your social life plenty as it is." Tara sent her now perfected, "Don't you dare/don't start sucking," look. "Uh, last sentence is stricken from the record."

Was she kidding? The slayer was the highlight of her days. And nights, often. She'd become surprisingly comfortable in graveyards. Due to the company, most likely. They were always talking, learning about each other, trying to embarrass...not that they knew why, other than it was enjoyable.

Tara's spreading of her wings and self-discovery was further encouraged and facilitated by Buffy. She was allowed to be, without fear; she hoped she allowed her friend the same freedom. Anyhow, apparently she was a decent amount braver and bluer verbage-wise than she had been with Willow. Even to a greater degree than a mere, two months ago, during that intense, cleansing night with the euphemism about her liking Buffy.

Wait, that's not...and didn't make...whoa. She liked Buffy? Cripes. When did that happen?

Her face gave nothing away, however. Her voice neither. "Tell her any '-ish' she picks is fine. Hanging with the 'Summers Sisters' guarantees a fun time."

Big smile. Buffy couldn't like her too, could she? No. Though had she figured out...? "Great. You're my, 'Get Out of a Mood Swing Free' card for later." She relinquished the puck. "Except now isn't later."

"No...it isn't." Tara jibed again, this time making fun of her sentences.

"Hmm. Suckiness so soon? Woulda lost that bet."

With that out of the way, Tara put certain things temporarily on hold, and got down to business.

* * *

-Bath, England, Present-

Tara remembered that afternoon with Buffy and Dawn. They stopped to eat a late lunch at the deli in the shopping center, and while Buffy went up to put all their orders in, Dawn asked Tara how long she'd thought her sister was cute. She pleaded ignorance, but Dawn was sharp. Didn't miss much, so needless to say, it didn't fly. But the girl also had enough sense not to say a word when Buffy came back to the table.

"We were dating, weren't we?" She asked Buffy as she entered the sun room that was connected to the kitchen, carrying their hot chocolates. She'd made this batch.

"I guess." Buffy agreed from the sofa, turning away from the window closest to her--they lined the room, letting one appreciate the winter scenery from warm surroundings. "Just without the kissing or acknowledging or...getting people jealous at the Bronze." She thought there was more they didn't do--other than the obvious--but it wasn't coming. "But nobody else has to know that we knew. 'Cause Dawn'll milk it for weeks."

The witch laughed, handing Buffy a mug and sitting beside her. Then as she ran the words back, she felt her cheeks go hot. "You wanted to get people jealous at the Bronze? H..." Was that her voice sounding husky? "How?"

Buffy choked on her liquefied cocoa. Sat it on the window sill just to be safe as Tara smacked her on the back. "Um, uh, let's-let's just say there were many vacations to 'Fantasy Land' in my head."

So whatever it was, odds are it went beyond floating while dancing.

Tara copied Buffy's good idea and put her cocoa on the sill as well. "Unless you wanna be really specific about what counted as a date? I think we probably reached the point where it's okay to tell your girlfriend about, you know, the-the kind of things she was doing in 'Fantasy Land.'" Reached and passed the point.

Luckily Buffy hadn't gone for another sip, because Tara feared there would've been choking again. She watched a myriad of emotions and reactions ripple across her girlfriend's face, and knew them all. Elation, disbelief, hesitation, embarrassment, nervousness, worry, desire...love, all played out in a matter of seconds. Then she was the kissed this time. Needingly, like something had awoken that'd hibernated far too long.

And that was the true for her, too. Willow and Kennedy certainly charged the air, but when Tara's mind went where all minds go with two, vocal and passionate people nearby, it wasn't them she pretended to voyeur--it was her and the person now in her lap, with both arms around her neck. What she saw turned her on, and it wasn't too big a leap to guess she hadn't been alone in that mental place. Which turned her on more.

This trumped heaven. Why? Because it was real; the feelings were real. Cordelia described heavens as "dimensions jacked up on Prozac" once. Nice places, but the contentment they provided was artificial. Like a drug. Maybe it was because she was more mystically-attuned than most, or because she'd been quite content alive on earth, but Tara was able to sense how things weren't exactly genuine.

So not the case here.

When she started kissing along Buffy's throat and when her palms settled on Buffy's ass, the girl came up for oxygen with a moan. "Isn't too...too fast, is it?" Buffy managed to ask before kissing her again, quick and crushing. Spoke in the breaks. "Because...love you, but...slow with...romantic...later. Want you, and...can't...Mm...wait. Now."

Tara reached and pulled off Buffy's shoes, letting them fall to the floor. Then her hands traveled up to Buffy's waist, and surprising herself, she lifted and laid the slayer down. While Buffy's arms went back above her head, hanging over the arm of the sofa, Tara straddled her lower half before leaning down and stretching out over her upper. 

A memory of Miss Kitty flashed in the wicca's brain.

Their fingers could meet now, and did, fitting together without protest. Tara's position also left their faces inches apart, eyes looking at each other--she saw in that hazel what must have been reflected in her blue. Confident in that, speed became a non-issue. Fast, slow...didn't change the meaning of what they were doing. It happened whatever way it happened. And she wanted to touch Buffy as badly as Buffy wanted to touch her.

But first, she had one quibble.

"I'm in Europe. With an incredibly beautiful woman who just...s-said she loves me. And the first time I g-get to see how beautiful she is everywhere, there's snow falling all around us." Outside the windows, anyway. Semantics. "What isn't romantic about that?" Then she grinned that grin, her breath tickling the nose below, causing it to crinkle. "She doesn't know it yet? But she's gonna feel how much I love her back, until all she'll be able to do, is wonder why the hell she ever liked those boy parts." Buffy bit the corner of her bottom lip at this whispered news, half-suppressing a whimper.

The slayer bent her knee then, bringing it up between Tara's thighs. Someone's breath hitched. "Sofa."

"Gods…" Tara gasped, hands squeezing harder, eyelids fluttering. "What?"

"Isn't romantic. Or the comfiest." Came the delayed answer, but very fogging pressure made it hard for Tara to even remember her own question. "Good thing it can be a bed too, huh?"

The witch's eyes opened as she grinned again. That she comprehended.

* * *

The gang thought Buffy was strange for adding a sunroom to the back of the house. This was England--the country sunlight shunned. What was the point, they'd asked, of all those windows letting in dreary rain all the time? They probably figured it was where she went to be bleak and depressed or something. Nah.

Crater-gazing eight months ago, she literally saw a big circle. Saw the big picture Tara had insisted was there. The worldwide activation of slayers tipped the scales, taking away any chance for the First to disrupt the delicate balance of Good and Evil in its favor. Spike's destruction of the Hellmouth, however, tipped the scales too far in theirs. So what had been concentrated evil, got distributed in small doses around the world.

Having it click on a grand scale made seeing the simpler instances of balance, of why things happened, a cinch. There was peace in knowing everything existed in harmony. For that reason she loved being outside, walking humbly among nature, whenever she could. And when the weather was bad enough to deter her--or when she was just lazy--this room let her feel like she was out there. Thunderstorms were awesome from here.

But now there was snow, and Tara was right again. It was romantic. And balanced.

Cold on one side of the windows...hot on the other. She had her back to them on the sofa-turned-bed. There was a faint chill on her skin, not that she noticed. Much too focused. Tara sat with her legs wide, and Buffy knelt in the space between, hands shaking as she reached around to unzip Tara's dress. Revealing the body she kept underneath, for the first time? This was a fantasy.

Because they needed to stop to fold out the sofa, things slowed, foiling an original, "Buffy" plan for the second time tonight. Just about. The "Tara getting her completely naked as soon as they hit the mattress" thing, happened pretty fast. But now she could take as much care with this, as she did in her daydreaming. Screwing up plans could be fun. Though Tara wasn't making it easy.

She didn't know why, but in the fantasy, she pictured Tara being still while she went about her reverential task. In reality, hands were in tangled in her hair, and a mouth alternated between her stomach and the outer edges of her breasts. It was a combination of lips, tongue, and suction, and she was so...aware. Every sensation hummed through her, echoing long after others had followed. The witch wasn't rough or hurried in her ministrations--just skilled and enthusiastic. No, Tara had been lost in this particular activity for minutes now.

Buffy wouldn't be able to be upright much longer, if it continued. Like she read minds, Tara made a slight change, sliding a hand down her back, over her right cheek, and grazed four fingers along her folds from underneath.

"Geeoooshit!" Buffy cried out in surprise at the jolt, and collapsed forward, making Tara fall backwards. "Oh my god, Tare."

Tara began giggling, and as her body shook, the vibrations weren't unpleasant for Buffy. "'Geeoooshit?'"

"Hey, be glad I was that coherent." Buffy said with a smile. "Must warn before there's 'happy petal' touching." Tara laughed deep and throatily; Buffy blushed, and began to explain. "There was a library book in junior-high...very, 'Blume'-esque...about a girl discovering the, um, 'Wow-potential' of her unmentionables. And she gave them, you know, names." She pondered. "It's probably been 'PTA-banned' since, though. Was kinda...descriptive."

Tara's eyes sparkled. "What did she call this?"

Buffy watched her lift glistening fingers to her mouth. "'Water,' I-I think. That her 'flower' made for itself. 'Cause all flowers...need watering."

She swallowed hard as those fingers gained entry past her girlfriend's (oh, hell) lips. "Hmm...she never drank any, then." Those lips quirked after Tara cleaned them off with her tongue. "You taste so much better than plain-old water, sweetie."

Mouth dry. "The next time I say you suck? Take it as a compliment."

A fresh wave of arousal hit her. Buffy kissed Tara and rolled them over, so the taller blonde was on top. Tara sat up, and if it weren't for a thin layer of cotton, there'd be...geez...'happy petals' connecting. Perhaps even a touching of buds. When Buffy became conscious of it, she half-growled, half-groaned.

She immediately used her hands to finally slip the dress down off Tara's shoulders. Inch by inch (with help) she exposed a bra-covered chest, and was stunned. And jealous. Tara's full, curvy, soft figure made her the womanliest woman the slayer had ever seen. Buffy was mesmerized by how sexy, how erotic, how...much she needed to expand her vocabulary.

"You're sorta perfect." That would have to do.

Then Tara unclasped the bra, and set it aside.

Blink. "'Tara Breasts.' Breasts of Tara." Tara smiled, for the first time seeming shy. At her sides, her arms fidgeted like they wanted to cover something. A pair of somethings. Buffy held them still. "Uh-uh. It's my turn. Don't know if you know this, but I can learn pretty damn quick when motivated." Buffy pulled her down again, and she looked right at her targets. "And I really, really fucking am right now."

When she mimicked Tara's earlier attentions, she heard sounds of approval. "I..." She threw in a tiny nip for variety. Wasn't expected. "...geeahhohfuck believe you."

Buffy chuckled around the flesh that preoccupied her so. Such soap-worthy language they used.  



	3. Part Four

-Sunnydale, April 2002-

The slayer was sitting on her bed, back to the headboard, surrounded by her stuffed animal collection. She heard her friend come to a stop inside the doorway, but didn't meet her eyes. She'd intentionally secluded herself in here for most of the day. After her "homicidal incident" in the morning. She could only bear to have conversations with Mr. Gordo, which probably didn't inspire confidence in her sanity.

"Wanna thumb wrestle?" Tara inquired lightly.

Buffy smiled despite herself, and spoke to the stuffed pig. "You're lucky you have hooves, Mr. Gordo. If you had digits that opposed? That sneaky wicca over there would sucker you in and crush 'em. Her hands're...really strong. And I could've broken them. 'Broke' being the best-case, re: 'pain.'" She forced herself to look up as Tara walked farther into the room. "I'm so sorry."

"You went to a reality where your mom was alive and still married to your dad. Where they both told you demons weren't real, and that you didn't have to fight them." The witch said, sitting on the side of the bed. "If it was me? And I saw m-my mom?" She exhaled. "Leaving would've been so har-hard."

Buffy grabbed Tara's hand and smiled sympathetically, while shaking her head at herself. "But it wasn't real. I served up the only people in this world who matter to me, to a demon, 'cause of hallucinations. From 'mystical acid.'"

"Maybe they weren't." Tara suggested, leading Buffy to goggle. "The poison? It could've o-opened a connection between you, and an 'Alternate Universe Buffy.' Which let your conscious's sh-shift back and forth...but you fought it." She said firmly, laying her hand on Buffy's knee. "You fought what was happening when you had to, killed the demon, took his antidote, and we're all okay. And we all still...still love you."

This smile grew large on Buffy's face, her thumb making circles on the back of Tara's hand, pretty sure she knew the difference between subtext and regular-text. "I still love everybody, too." She swore, and the glowing smile given back just bolstered her confidence in her text-telling prowess. But smiling had to be enough for now. "But I was tempted for way too long. I should've..." She was berating herself. "After putting all this work in, with you helping and being there and showing me...I barely passed a giant test. There's gonna be others, and 'barely' won't keep cuttin' it."

"Buffy, you just said you loved your friends and family. And we must be using up a lot of room inside," Tara nodded at where her friend's heart was, "if you turned down a normal life to stay here with us." She pointed out, trying to get Buffy to see how big of a deal it was. "Think about what that means."

Buffy did as bade, and strangely? It was rather anti-climatic. Could be she needed to change her definition of "barely." Her brain shouted, 'It's about time you caught up to me! Think we can back in frickin' sync now? Just maybe?'

"Nothing's wrong with me." Buffy said, and was certain. She knew it the night she cried into Tara's skirt (her brain did, anyway) but now her heart knew it also. "I'm alive, and I wanna stay. I wanna be 'ultra-supportive best friend gal' for Xander," Doubts and fears had made him leave Anya at the altar, "I wanna have mochas with Will and hear her babble about classes I don't understand the names of, and, god help me, I think I even wanna make cupcakes for the bake sale at Dawn's school." She recovered from that run-on sentence while Tara laughed. "There's nothing wrong with me, Tara."

"No offense, sweetie? But duh." Tara teased, as she congratulated her with a hug. "Welcome back." Beat. "You'll keep getting better, trust me. Bitch isn't so tough."

"Not with my guider guiding." Buffy breathed Tara in as a giggle escaped. She always did, when they were close. "How lame was the face paint?" Earthy, that's how she smelled.

The reason her heart knew anything, was because Tara warmed it back up. That was a fact. Not just the emotions of a girl in heavy smit.

The petite blonde said as the hug ended, "Yay for you being back, too." That's why Tara had come over. And been in a position to get hurt. What came next she couldn't hold in. "But you can still un-accept. Yes, I realize there was begging, but if you wanna run? Far away? You could. I mean, now that you and Willow aren't 'You and Willow,' where're you gonna sleep? Why didn't I think about this?"

A quick, "Don't start sucking" stare, and Buffy zipped it. Tara spoke then. "I told Dawn I'd sleep on the couch till we figured something out, but she said I was taking her bed or else. And her 'or elses' get a little...scary. Cre-creative, but, scary." Smirk. "She unpacked my things already, and hid all the cardboard boxes...I can't go anywhere. I don't want to."

"I don't want you to, either. You're home." Buffy said seriously, attempting to quiet her nerves. It was just, if something ever happened to her, something worse than today...no. Happy thoughts. "Oh hey, how'd your presentation go? Know you were nervous. Public speaking and all."

"Good. Hopefully good." Tara answered positively. "Everybody liked Willow's PowerPoint, and saying it in front of you, first--a-and her and Dawnie--really did help me relax." She smiled gratefully. "Thanks for sitting through it; 'The History of Engraving' is pretty dry if you're not into it. Dr. Redd didn't give anyone a choice."

"What're you talking about? You were great. I learned about chisels. Absolutely no dryness; couldn't get any wetter."

Her eyes bugged, while Tara, thank cripes, pushed them away from that can of worms. "We oughta, um, head d-downstairs. Everyone's waiting to see you. And because we couldn't in the morning? I made coffee. We-we usually have hot chocolate now, but--"

Buffy forgot her dangerous words lickety-split, springing off the bed. "Then we'll mix. Both have to be drunk." Her brow furrowed. "Drinked." No, that wasn't it. "Drank?"

"Drinken?" Tara tried, following.

"Ehh, now it's gonna bug." Buffy frowned, and when she spoke in the hallway, it was hushed. "We should set Willow up on a date, don'tcha think?" The subtextual motive there was, _'So I, a selfish, selfish person, can date you.'_

"Yes. Soon." Well, that was immediate, no words minced. If Buffy had any doubts about Tara's feelings, they'd just been erased.

On the stairs, Buffy was back to normal volume. "So there might actually be a catatonic 'Buffy' in an institution somewhere?" Only made her more thankful for the life and the people she was going to greet. "Poor Alterna-Me."

* * *

-Bath, England, Present-

"If you two need to warm up, then that was some amazing acting. I mean, you could almost hear the sweat--how'd you do that?" Kennedy said with a wink as she walked into the kitchen wearing an oversized shirt that she just threw on, by the looks of it.

The brow above that winking eye, quirked. The blondes were wrapped in blankets, preparing to reheat their neglected hot chocolates in the microwave. Tara stood behind Buffy, arms tight around the original slayer's waist.

"Guess my girl's safe." The brunette grinned, moving to get two bottles of water from the fridge. "Will told me, but...the Boss? In the club? Didn't believe it. My intuition's gotta be on the fritz."

"They call you 'Boss'?" Tara asked bemusedly, kissing the top of her girlfriend's head.

"No, they call me 'Ma'am.' Words haven't been invented for how wigsome and...'geeyuh.''" That was the noise that went along with Buffy's shudder, and the similarity to an earlier made Tara go rosy. "They make me feel forty-five." Buffy grumbled after reopening her eyes post-"head kiss" to glare at the younger slayer. "Kennedy just likes being a pain in my ass whenever she can get away with--meaning, when Willow's not around to threaten denying what we're all obviously recouping from. How many times, Tare?"

"Maybe six?" Tara pretended to mull, and blamed Buffy's competitive streak for being so contagious. "No, seven. It was definitely seven." Kennedy scoffed, silently saying, "Yeah, right," at the nonchalant answer. "B-between the both of us."

"Yeah, 'cause of that once. With the...yeah." Buffy nodded, playing along. "Sorry, tried to keep us even, but, less experience." She looked apologetic. "If only I had an understanding, patient, huge-hearted expert in 'girl satisfaction,' training me." She sighed heavily, then waited a moment to continue. "Other important qualities? Front'n'back sides equally cushy--'back' because, sexy; 'front' because...she'd make a seriously better pillow than your standard traditional." Buffy held a finger upon her lips. "Blonde...blue eyes that look so far in they see aura...and a smile that women historically faithful to 'boy parts'? Suddenly wanna be kissing." Another heavy, dejected sigh. "But what're the chances?" Another pause. Before grinning and ending her complimentary speighl. "Oh, wait."

Kennedy squinted, like she was studying Tara's girlfriend as she would a bug under a microscope. "Who is she? 'Cause that isn't Buffy." Squint. "She's being cute...and corny. It's like she knows how to relax or something." She cocked her head to the side. "Well, it is only supposed to take one, good--"

"Kenn, why aren't you back ye...?" Willow said with a yawn, shuffling into the kitchen in a blue robe and 'Woodstock' slippers. Her eyes zeroed in on the two girls in blankets. "Oops. Hey there, you...potty-mouthed friends of me." Then they quickly went from them to her girlfriend, who she knew had nothing on except that long shirt. She raised her hand. "Am-am I interrupting 'future kinky'?"

"For them maybe," The brunette handed Willow a bottle of water and held her possessively, "but I'm spoken for. Have all the 'goddess' I could want." Deep kiss. "And, a night down the Boss would get out. Can't let my grunts think I'm her bitch."

Buffy's brow could've touched the roof. "We're the potty-mouthed?"

Tara's as well, while she herself felt possessive. "Some of those words I-I went my whole life without hearing. Until tonight." She teased Willow. "Vixen."

Seeing her ex on someone else's arm--not just from above--in a situation like this, she had to take it in. Would've happened eventually in Sunnydale (with everyone close quartered), but...events, had it happening here. To know the person you used to be in love with had moved on was one thing, but then to view the intimacy up close, and say to yourself, "That used to be me"? Separate experience all together. Odd, mostly.

She wasn't regretting; that would've been a complicated leap backwards. No, she remained thrilled for Willow. Kennedy, though bratty and having no shortage of commentary, obviously had only adoring eyes for her. Given the way the young slayer gripped the redhead, Kennedy was also obviously the dominant one in their relationship.

When Tara was with her, that role was Willow's. Kennedy's slayerness was the easy explanation, but no. Because if it held, Buffy wouldn't have let Tara take the lead through just about everything. Except during the application of slayerness. She had ideas about why they surrendered control, Willow and Buffy both, but standing here naked under a blanket and doing psychoanalysis? Uh, maybe later.

What she was doing, was realizing how far Willow had come. Her once lover had always been powerful, but having the darkest (as well as the purest) magicks course through her, only to emerge stronger, made her probably the most powerful witch in the world. There was no arrogance, however. No pompousness. Just a calm balance.

If her "shy face" was any indication, Willow had no idea how much of a force the Powers considered her to be. Or she did, and allowed Kennedy to ground her, so there was someone she didn't have to fill those big shoes for. Same reasoning could apply to Buffy in fact, and...whoops. Kind of psychoanalytical, wasn't it? Ah, well.

Tara's appraisal ended with her satisfied that Willow had reached the place she did in her last lifetime. Be love there forever--like Buffy had for Angel, and Kennedy for who'd ever come before--but they each had new people. People who were different, but who still managed to spark those familiar feelings. If she was offered a choice, Tara would pick Buffy without hesitating. That's who her heart was with, and the Powers knew that when they offered her the Cordelia-arranged "transfer."

"Us too." Willow responded back, and then succumbed to the blush. "So...you don't need a coach, do ya?" She asked Buffy, and Kennedy stared in shock. "Nononono...I was gonna use diagrams! One-hundred percent, 'No hands' coaching! And absolutely no to anything not hands, too. See? See the 'no' theme?" She smiled weakly. "Remember, 'kite string.'" Her heart was with Kennedy.

"Go ahead. Tell them your big fantasy where you watc..." Kennedy's stare was still peeved, but it wandered. "...watch them be freaking hot."

Tara didn't know what possessed her. Probably that same hell-spawn that made her call Buffy "beautiful" that first night. But damn it, her girlfriend's neck was right there; the side still pristine and not marked by vampires. And the hair she moved aside, reminded Tara of how Buffy wore it that first semester before Joyce passed. Long, wavy, and more of a brownish-blonde that her fingers loved running through. When she didn't have her mouth affixed to the skin behind its curtain.

Buffy's knees buckled, but she kept her steady. Rope and all. "What're you--?"

"Pulse-check." Tara mumbled, kissing down her neck to her shoulder, and up again.

"Gonna..." The elder slayer hummed, though she'd shown her approval the entire time. "...flirt with me?"

"Gonna do so much." Tara had missed physicality. Especially this kind, but even so, she stopped. Much to everyone's dismay. "Once we're, you know, alone." She looked to the gawkers. "It's okay, Willow. I've got her...and um, somebody's got you."

Willow nodded on a continuous loop. Perhaps her brain had broke.

"C'mon, they're not beating us." Kennedy declared. And in the moments before she dragged the redhead back upstairs, Tara met her eyes: 'Thank you.'

Releasing Buffy, the wicca hoped her message was conveyed past the horniness.

"They think we're hot." Buffy grinned on Tara's lips, prior to kissing her. Her next stop was an earlobe, but she held herself up. "'Kite string'? And I'm corny?" She rolled her eyes, then quickly returned to the ear, and dragged her fingers across Tara's back and past blanket. This went on for a good fifteen seconds until, "Let's hurry with the microwave. 'Cause I kinda wanna hit 'seven' for real now. Coach."

Tara was happy to give control to Buffy in order to meet that challenge. Her new lover, if she had to sum in a word? Thorough. And wow, she'd just necked her in front of Willow, hadn't she? They'd have to talk tomorrow.

"Before Willow came in, did you really...mean everything you said?" Tara asked, stepping aside to let Buffy work the microwave.

"Every last all of it. That part wasn't for Kennedy." Buffy told her sincerely. "And I had more. Like how I'd watch you do anything. Folding laundry? I'm there. Looking in the produce section for the most ready-to-ripen fruit? There. Ordering Chinese, but asking the guy what his name is first and how his day's going? There. Laughing at the movies of Jim Carrey? Well, think you get it." She bashfully smiled. "I am corny, aren't I?"

"There're worse things to be." Tara had something in her eye as she smiled back. "S-so you think I have a big butt?" Lips turned downside-up. "Oh, sorry. I meant 'cushy.'"

"Buwhasna?" What were three words became a mashing into one. It took a minute for Buffy to restart. "Okay, ''big' and 'cushy'? Two, unique words. With their own, unique definitions. People who wrongly lump them together had third-grade-teaching frauds. With nicknames like 'Mrs. Cathead.'" She pressed on after a strategic pausing. "A butt can be just-right, and still not skimp on 'cushy.' Which yours proves. If you don't think so, then Jennifer Lopez's is bony."

The microwave beeped, and Buffy got out the mugs.

After given hers, the witch stared much in the same way Kennedy had. "Already checking out other girls? That's awfully soon...and awfully sucky."

The slayer closed her eyes and breathed deep. "Why couldn't you've concentrated on how I wanna kiss you when you smile? Geez." When her eyes opened again, Tara made sure she was. "Willow was right--you're so easy to fall for. Even at your suckiest." As she kissed her, Buffy pulled the blanket from Tara's body in a swift motion, and raked her eyes over what she saw.

"Buffy!" Tara exclaimed, sharp but soft, cupping what she could with her only available hand. Had a slight drawback, in that, her quivering wasn't from the cold.

"What? I'm checking." Buffy grinned, drank, and then started walking back to where the bed was. "Sure hope you're coming." Oh, that was a...statement. "Unless you want Xander to have a heart attack in five hours when he's craving Pop Tarts." 

Tara hurried behind. It was time to get that control back.

* * *

-Sunnydale, May 2002-

Tara had been in the house twelve days, 14.2 hours, and eight minutes; Willow was glad for it. They'd been getting back to being a family again for a while, but her living there made it official. Miraculously over the last weeks, time was found for Tara and Dawn's dinners, where Warren and Jonathan and the other one didn't intrude--the witches were in the supermarket fetching tonight's. But the nerds did intrude otherwise.

Before coming here, she and Tara had spent a good portion of the day comparing unmarked schematics Buffy rescued from their basement "lair," with the copies on file at the county clerk's office. About this time tomorrow, if they were right, the nerds were going to rob an armored car. The key to that being "tomorrow," which was a lucky break, because dinner was important.

Xander was their guest. The "Scooby Women" (minus an, un-ex-demon who had cancelled her membership) were in better spirits, while he wasn't even close. Learning about Buffy and Spike, then seeing Anya and Spike...it was kind of a setback in their efforts to help him. And the saddest part was, he and Buffy hadn't been speaking as a consequence. The whole gang needed a re-bonding night.

"I didn't think we'd be so long." Tara said, moving a little faster than she would have otherwise.

She was going to make a Chicken Caesar Salad--she'd gotten the lettuce and the dressing, what she needed now was pre-cut, pre-cooked chicken and rolls. For buttering. They were walking down the refrigerated wall, looking for the former.

"It did sorta turn into a 'whole day' mission." Willow agreed. "There was far driving, making up the not-exactly-most-truest-story-ever of how we got our copy," It was one lie away from, "they fell off a truck," "then waiting for tiny, grandpa Otis to find which ones matched." She frowned. "His knees were so shaky. Like those windup teeth."

"Got it." The blonde smiled grabbing the Purdue-brand, re-sealable bag. Her words were almost breathless.

"Could take a night off, y'know." The redhead suggested, thinking that her ex was putting too much pressure on herself. "We can order pizzas! Who doesn't like a pizza? They're universally yummy."

"No." Tara was kind of firm there, but as she placed her find in the cart, she dialed it back. "No, she..." She appeared to catch herself. "...we all need to eat better."

Willow looked like she found that a little odd. "Hey, I'm totally nutrition girl. How much potassium's in ten, banana bushels? Go ahead, quiz me."

Tara smiled, and they were on the move to the bakery section. "Remember last time? You wouldn't let me stop. I lost count of how many questions there were."

"Uh..." Willow looked embarrassingly away. "I think definitely nope. Uh huh. Big on the nope. You should lay down; today's, whew," Her finger made a circle beside her head, "made you loopy." A beat followed, then they both laughed. It was that old, familiar feeling, and she just blurted, "Do you miss us?"

When Tara halted the cart, they were at the milk and the eggs. Willow didn't know why she noticed. "Every day."

That made the redhead feel really good just then. "Sure you're sure?" The stare she got in return was the same one she'd gotten from Oz. The, "I'll always love you, but..." stare. "Sorry. That's my final try. Care Bear swear."

"Have-have you thought about...trying to, you know, meet people?"

Scrunchy brow. It hit her like a scary, hundred mile an hour, Nerf football shot out of a cannon. "Oh. Meeting in a 'hey,'" She did her best sexy voice at that word, "way. Big on the definitely nope. Again. Still not done recovering." From everything.

"M-m-maybe meeting somebody could help--"

Nerf football strike number two? "You are. Or have. Have you met? You've met, haven't you?" And it just kept flowing. "Do you meet a lot? Has she already heard the 'centipede' story? You can't be there yet, can you? Not-not that you hafta tell me anything, because, why the heck wouldja? We have separate businesses now, and they're on different streets and I don't even wanna know. I mean, it isn't like we're competing for who's got the most..." She babbled continuously. "Goddess, I should be. Right? Should've a long time ago, but I've just been--"

"Only when you're ready." Tara rested a calming hand on her once girlfriend's shoulder.

That shoulder, plus the other, sagged. "When's 'when'?"

Probably when she wasn't looking.

"Um, hey guys. Am I late?" Buffy walked up to them gingerly, having just come off patrol and clearly holding back a grimace.

Tara was immediately at her side, seeing that the slayer was hurt. "What happened?"

Buffy held up her right palm, and made a fist out of her left. "Me," Fist punched palm, "tombstone." She reached around to try to massage her lower back.

"You should be at the house. You're hurt."

"But," Buffy began to argue, "said I'd meet you. I'm fi--"

"Go relax, Buffy. Take a hot bath." Tara ordered. "We're almost done anyway."

Willow was suddenly very interested in watching the two blondes.

"Yes, ma'am." Soft smile from Buffy that was echoed by Tara.

Why'd this seem so...? Oooooh boy. Tara liked...Did Buffy...? No, that was...no. Though geez, her mind? Going there.

"See ya at home, Will." Buffy was saying. "I'm going before Tara makes me regret not."

"Wha...?" Willow had to snap her mind back to the here and now. "Home...right. Home's good. Soaking, too. Yep, love soaking myself." Her face was rather warm. "Um, see ya, Buff."

When she took away the various emotions she was feeling at her new revelation--that the love of her life felt something for the other, best friend she had a secret crush on at one time--and the wanting to cry, Willow was just left with very strong, pleasing thoughts and images of naughty.

In front of the milk. And the eggs. Innocent, cute, little eggs.

She was so ashamed.

* * *

-Bath, England, Present-

"Do you think about it?" Buffy asked quietly as they lay beneath their blankets on the bed, all sexed out.

Drained of any and all energy. Sapped. Without muscle use. She wasn't this tired even after she and Riley had their ghost-fueled, marathon of a romp. A hell of a romp, no question, but that's all it was. This was something else.

Legs entangled, the women were on their sides, heads sharing the same pillow, facing each other. Buffy brushed her hand down Tara's locks, which she settled behind her ear. Then kept going, down over a cheek and across lips. The tips of her fingers were kissed as they passed. This was something else.

"About what?" Tara asked in return.

"You know what." The slayer accused, and then pushed out a breath. "But you're gonna make me say."

The witch gently advised, "You should...i-if you wanna talk about it."

Buffy considered backpedaling, but it wouldn't work. "I do, and then I...really don't, because that day was..." One, horrible, devastating thing after another. Though now it was-- "...gone. It's gone, and you're back. So why dredge?" She explained, condensing. "Besides, the timing's a landfill of stinks. 'Pillow talk' it isn't." Why was she surprised then, when Tara gripped the pillow case like she was prepared to yank it out from beneath their heads? "Don't punish the pillow--isn't 'mattress talk,' either."

"I remember it was my turn to make the beds." Tara said, evidently paying her no mind. Buffy didn't move her eyes from her girlfriend. "And Willow's was biggest, so I did hers first." Tara always worked her way from the toughest to easiest; that day, that admirable trait helped cost her life. "When I was done, I went to the window to ch-check on you," Despite what was coming, Buffy had to grin, "and saw Xander. I was so glad you two were making up.

"Then I saw Warren, but I guess it happened fast, because I don't, um..." The not-bullet proof slayer, for her part, just remembered smelling the grass as she laid on her back. "I don't think it hurt." Buffy assumed she must've looked upset, because Tara's tone had been reassuring. "What I remember most? I-is how angry at myself I was for the night before. I made you go home, and Spike almost--"

"You didn't make him try." Buffy's hand found Tara's over by her thigh, and captured it.

"And you didn't make him shoot me." Tara squeezed back. "Dummy."

"Spike didn't...oh. Never mind." Now that the other important person in her life who'd died and been resurrected was mentioned, Buffy couldn't avoid weaving off-topic, and she did so nervously. "D'you know that we, meaning me and Spike, kind of...bonded, after he came back from his soul-getting safari?" She didn't wait for a reply. "S'hard to describe really, because we didn't actually...but there was caring. Pretty deep caring. And he was just...you know, what I needed. Then." She tacked on that last word in hopes that it implied she needed Tara, now. "He's in here though," She pointed at her "heart" area, "and...I dunno what I'm accomplishing. Other than continuing the inappropriate talking on pillows."

"You two went through a lot together." Tara told her girlfriend, not bothered by this. Buffy supposed she'd asked herself that question before, with Willow. "I wasn't always watching, but I know how important he was. That doesn't just go away." Then her understanding expression changed somewhat, as she gave a playful warning that couldn't quite hide the insecurity. "But he better be comfortable in that file cabinet, because you're mine now. That clear?" Quiet nod. "I hope you're ready for us."

"Been ready. And for the record? How I feel about you, and how I started to about Spike last year? Not the same." Buffy needed to emphasize that. "Guess I just wanted you to know that even though a thing developed, it wasn't a replacement thing." There--she remembered what she intended to accomplish. "When it looked like we'd go somewhere eventually? Promised myself I'd commit. Which I stuck to...past what people who aren't Buffy would probably consider healthy, but hey, paid off, so...gloating." She smirked mildly. "Anyway, here's me. Being fully committed. To my girlfriend. In bed and out of." 

"I think I'm kinda convinced of the 'in bed' part." Tara said, her half-grin as exhausted as the rest of her. "Are you sure you and Faith didn't get drunk re-recently and--?"

"Would've put a huge hole right through the commited-ness." Buffy reminded, looking mildly stung. "Turns out girl-sex is easy if ya know what you're looking for. And I should by now; that's eleven years of self-practice talking."

"Stop trying to distract me." Tara accused lightly, and goddess help her, she wanted to be. Again. But no, she was in control. "What're you really thinking?"

"You mean besides...?" Buffy trailed off at the now infamous glare, as Tara seemed to anticipate the guilt trip. "Wow, I even missed 'Ticked Tara.'" Beat. "What I remember the most? After I wasn't shot anymore? Is how much I hated that you had to die alone."

Willow had just been getting back from her Spellcasters Anonymous meeting when they were loading Buffy into the ambulance. Xander was too focused on her to think about checking on Tara, but that was the first thing the redhead did. She found her ex in the bedroom, beyond saving. But she tried anyway. And then "Dark Willow" happened.

"By the time Xander and I got back to the house, Dawn was sitting there, then more sirens and they didn't give a damn, and all I could think was, 'She died alone.'

Tara was going to interrupt, but Buffy didn't stop. "Until I heard my sister. She was so angry; she wanted Warren to die. I wanted Warren to die. Except, I knew you wouldn't, even with what he did, and I knew we couldn't let Willow go that far." Beat. "Not like it mattered, 'cause we were too late."  
_  
'Maybe it had to happen.'_ She thought to herself, and then closed her eyes a second, wishing what she said next, wasn't true. "Things got worse, but...you dying made me realize how very a lot I didn't wanna lose anyone else that day."

Buffy was of the same mind as Willow in that, why did death have to be the spark that lit the fuse of events? Of course, from there, she'd made it. That last year in Sunnydale had her backsliding somewhat, but she pulled it out in the end. Having Tara there might've helped the transition to army leader go less bumpy, but, wasn't an option. So she had to rely on her memory of those times, find "Buffy" all herself, and connect to those girls.

Spike was what she needed following the ousting. Hearing the purity of his feelings, what he thought of her...definite mood changer. Yet it wasn't frame of mind alone; no one could make her change except her. She took those attacks to heart, and instead of shutting down again, she recognized the truth in them and made the decision to break out of the circle she'd gone in for seven years.

She'd altered the world, become self-actualized, and her mental health was at a solid, 82.7. It was important, her accomplishments. But the woman who pushed her through the darkest period in her life, was important too. Only, she'd died alone, her body growing cold on the floor until hours later. If Tara had to die, just as Willow had to go vein-y, then she deserved better than that.

The slayer let her eyes do all that talking for her. "I'm sorry."

She understood now that she needed to say that, whether it was under her control or not. She wasn't looking to debate; her girlfriend didn't. Tara just wanted Buffy to get it off her chest. She brushed a stray strand away from the slayer's face, and kissed forehead. Quiet passed.

"W-well, at least I'm," Tara smiled sheepishly as she broke it, "here now."

Buffy gave her a look that said, "Wasn't this same point raised earlier?"

"And not alone. Ever again, by the way." Then lip kissing seemed like the thing to do. "Idea. We should start a club. Open for all, 'non-zombie' resurrected people. I don't care how small our minority is; we have rights." When she saw Tara half-elsewhere even with the smile, she knew her turn had come. "Whatcha thinkin'?"

"Noth--"

"If it's about the other shoe, you'd tell me...right?"

Damn. 


	4. Part Five

The sun was two hours from rising when Faith slipped in the back door/sunroom entrance, not expecting to see her sister slayer and still occasional rival, sleeping there. Not alone. With a girl. Probably naked too, under those sheets. Her eyebrow-raise of surprise gave way to a grin--about time. Then she continued on to the kitchen. Responsibility made her hungry, and the return trip? Wasn't doing that again.

Tossing the sole backpack she'd brought through to the dining room so it landed somewhere in the living room, she turned her attentions to the fridge. More specifically, to raiding the fridge. She heard Buffy enter minutes later, poked her head out, took in the ruffled, thrown on tank top and drawstring flannels, and asked smirkingly, "Who's the dirty blonde?"

Buffy smiled completely involuntarily. "So you saw." She continued once Faith had gathered all the remaining lunchmeat into her arms, and plopped them on the counter. "When'd you get back?"

"Just." Then came the mayo and mustard--dark--before she shouldered shut the fridge.

"You drove in a blizzard? From Scotland?" Buffy looked over at the window. Clear sky. "Or not. Still, bad roads and--"

"Got the mystics t'beam me express. I'm wicked jetlagged." She sat on the stool at the counter, moved her neck in a circle until she heard the pops, and then began to prepare her feast.

"We have mystics now?" Buffy asked in wonderment.

"We have every damn thing, B."

"Neat." She watched Faith, in silence, make four, quad-decker, turkey-ham-roast beef-and-salami sandwiches. "You're not really..."

The Bostonian took the first victim into her hands, and positioned her fingers for their part in all this. "Like hell I ain't."

"You used all the bread!"

Faith ignored the accusation, choosing to eat. "Should consider movin' the troops. There's this bad-ass castle beggin' to be the main HQ. Image, location...'sides, we ever got attacked, defending this place is gonna be a bitch."

"Is this because you watched _Lord of the Rings_ with Andrew when you were in Italy?" Buffy questioned with a knowing smirk, sitting on the opposite side on the counter. Faith was like a deer in headlights. "Yeah, I heard."

Cheeks puffed with food and Buffy still managed to decipher Faith's next words. "I was bored! And we had downtime!" It was time to take the reigns of this conversation. Which Faith did. Once she swallowed. "Still waitin' for an answer."

"She's Tara."

Faith had never bought the whole "glowing" thing. But then, she'd never let herself be in a position to purchase that particular cliché. Wasn't the type. Buffy however, was, and the last time she'd seen their leader this happy, the woman had been staring at a crater. It was a rare sight--Tara must've been fantastic.

Hang on, why'd that name sound familiar?

"Wasn't she--?" The brunette began.

Willow's or dead, she wasn't sure how she'd intended to finish.

"Not anymore." From the immediately somber expression on Buffy's face, maybe it was better she hadn't.

Faith's eyebrows went up, and she shrugged. "Yo, there any Dr. Pepper left?"

What'd she care about why Buffy left her lover's arms to sit in a goddamn kitchen for some stupid reason and have a chat? When she did eventually learn why, through no fault of her own most likely, she'd probably want to kick Buffy's ass. Not that that was new.

She stared expectantly until Buffy went to the fridge to fetch beverage. Buffy did it wordlessly, with just a sigh and shake of the head. Beat her when she developed this kind of power, but it was awesome. No way was she going to jinx it.

Less than a minute later, she reached up and caught the can thrown at the back of her head. "Think we met. Me and her."

"Technically. But it shouldn't count." Buffy stated while she sat back down, the smallest sliver of "Still Not Over It" to her words.

Oh. The body swap.

Faith just cast her gaze downward at the counter and took another bite. "So, uh, Willow do it?"

"A mother country of no." Buffy nipped that in the bud, and was quickly distracted by the disturbing sight of Faith chugging soda. Capped with carbonation's loud expulsion. "Tell me your secret to getting guys this whole time hasn't been out-belching them."

Faith casually flipped her off. "Be happy to demo 'The Skills' for ya, up close and personal...but I wouldn't wanna rub your honey the wrong way." Wink. "So what's the deal? She bring you all in? Y'know, to the fold?" There was a barest hint of a plural, through closed teeth, at the end. Buffy didn't rise to the bait. "Like Red? 'Cause I can't wait to lay the news on Bob."

"Bob" was Angel's latest spy/intern-promoted-to-spy. They didn't know his real name, therefore, Xander dubbed the dude, "Bob." It'd been his turn. Faith liked messing with sad, sad little men before sending them back to LA.

Buffy's reply was two-fold. First she picked off and consumed a bit of crust, marring one of the sandwiches, much to its maker's displeasure. Then she spoke. "Tara says I hafta sit in the 'Bi' corner when we bar-hop." She was serious, forcing Faith to choke on soda and to laugh at the same time. "What?" The blonde was lost; the brunette only laughed harder. "What's the funny?"

While Faith caught her breath, she thought about how much she liked Tara already.

In the meantime, Buffy had pieced it together. "No corner?" After a final snigger from the younger slayer, nothing was said for a couple minutes. "Cordelia pulled strings. Before she died." And "Somber Buffy" returned. "Up till four hours ago, I was letting myself believe they were unattached strings. Big surprise, they weren't."

"I bet Tara's gettin' cold." Faith had pieced together enough of the reason to not be interested in the rest.

She didn't know the ins and outs, but she knew Buffy, and Buffy was about to spew some guilt/angst/pessimism-ridden crap. Somehow, Buffy factored into the catch, so her pint-size predecessor would screw up the glowing because she couldn't "se la vi" and enjoy. It was like she hoped for screwed. Pissed Faith off.

She wasn't the right person to talk to about this shit, anyway.

"Bu--"

Speak of the witch. They both turned to see Tara, just as hurriedly dressed as her girlfriend, enter the kitchen. "Hey. Long time." Faith greeted.

"Yeah, um...yeah." Tara said awkwardly, yet politely. "How are you, Faith?"

"See my chow?" Faith gestured to said chow. "Five by five."

"Did-did we ever find out what that means?" Tara asked her slayer, who'd chosen to wisely come to her side.

Buffy's head shook. "Nope. Still a mystery."

"Good, I didn't wanna be out of the loop." There was a clear question in Tara's eyes, but it wasn't the same one she was actually asking. "Does she know I'm making pancakes in a little while?"

"Aw, the woman cooks? Better keep her, B. A chick can only take so much Cajun." Faith said playfully, but her stare was anything but. "You were just saying 'Welcome Home,' yeah?"

Buffy decided to shut up and agree. Second, wise choice. "Mm-hmm."

"Should take her back to bed, Tara. She needs her beauty Zs." Faith knew mission accomplished when Buffy glared back at her: '_Point gotten.'_

Tara looked to Buffy, and let out a breath when a strong arm went around her waist. "We don't have to."

"I'm pretty positive I'll regret turning down that option later, when I can't keep my eyes open and fall asleep in the middle of a Giles' meeting, and probably drool, but...take a walk with me?" Buffy requested, a reassuring smile spreading. "I'll grab coats."

Faith didn't expect her instructions to be followed to the letter. She would've been disappointed in Buffy if they had. "Know what else'd keep you warm?" She saw the blondes brace themselves for innuendo--was she becoming predictable? Oh well, se la vi. Once more, a mouthful of food and, "Pair'a muffs."

To illustrate her meaning, she cupped her hands over her ears.

"We're stable bound." Buffy informed her, successfully resisting another baiting. "'Cause with my luck, today'll be the day Dawn decides to live up to her name and wake early. Then there'll be freaking when she can't find us. 'Us' meaning Tara."

The ravenous East-Coaster gave a thumbs up.

* * *

-Santa Monica Mountains, February 2002-

"Like your present?" Tara asked Buffy as they rode side-by-side along the trail.

Their guide rode ahead, Dawn a little bit behind. It was beautiful out here. Peaceful. Company wasn't bad, either.

"Now that I'm getting...yes, muchly." Buffy said, speaking both of the delay as well as the gift's mechanics, as she adjusted her feet in the stirrups and stroked her horse's mane. "The secret's letting him do all steering. Mean, he clearly knows the how and the where better than me. Or he's just great at faking." Her voice lowered. "But he pees like a..." She was going to say, "racehorse," when the age-old saying finally clicked. "Oh, um, right. 'Cause he'd...do that. Uh huh."

"Is anybody else's butt sore?" Her sister asked, making both blondes turn their heads and grin. "I have like, welts, guys. Seriously."

Since her birthday, life made scheduling Buffy's gift difficult, but a lull in Tara's coursework and Buffy's Doublemeat duty, helped today be workable. Quick breakfasts, too brief patrols...all well and good, but a whole day with the wicca? Much more preferable. It felt like they were trying to cram two years worth of missed friendship into the last month and a half. Not that there was anything wrong with that.

"You don't have welts." Buffy rolled her eyes.

"How would you know?" Dawn challenged.

The retort? "Because you don't."

Now the brunette rolled her eyes. "It's my butt. I think I probably know what's usually..." At this point, she realized she was outside, in public, and got shy. "...supposed to be on it."

"Why? D'you look in a mirror?" Buffy questioned, innocent in tone but not in look. "Thought you got over that."

"What?" Red as Mars, that was what the younger Summers turned. "Tara, I didn't ever..." She looked at the witch, horrified. "I--"

"--did. While dancing. Every night after Mom made her bathe." Buffy remembered, putting a hand to her mouth like she was going to whisper, but she didn't. Whisper, that is. "Was called what again?"

She got the death stare and a mumbled answer. "The 'Cheeky Cha-Cha.'"

Tara tried hard to sound stern. "Don't tease your sister."

Buffy frowned. "But s'my duty." One she'd slacked on, but she was trying to make up for that. "My other, less grill-y and kill-y, duty."

"C'mon, Clip-Clop." Dawn said to her horse as they skirted just wide around her sister and Tara to pull ahead. She smirked as they passed. "I still have 'The Copy,' y'know."

Buffy felt her stomach knot. "Destroyed. It was a destroyed copy."

"Nuh-uh." The teen sing-songed, and turned to poke out her tongue.

After the slayer whimpered, she looked over at Tara, who smiled. There was a bit of "Aww," and "Told you so," in those lips. The woman wasn't even hiding it. "Quiet, you."

It was nice feeling like the sister she was supposed to be, but part of her "sibling duty" was pretending otherwise.

"I didn't say anything."

"Yet...Miss, 'Might Wanna Put Ice On That Cramp'." Buffy tacked on, mistrusting the sly witch. She couldn't say what she wanted to--innocent ears and all that. But she allowed herself a smirk, remembering how much it hurt to hold in giggles at Spike's absolutely clueless face. "So you don't like, whisper to them, do you? The horses?"

To which Tara belly-laughed. And Buffy thought (the latest in a long, growing string of such thoughts), that perhaps she liked hearing it a bit too much. Sure wasn't driving her away, though. If anything, it was reeling her in.

"I just like riding." Tara answered once the laughter had gone out of her. "Back home, if I wasn't w-with my mom, I was down the road at Mr. Hubbard's. His farm was pretty huge. With chickens and cows and horses--"

"--and possibly a cute, older, crush-worthy farmhand daughter?" Buffy was teasing, but then the ducking/blushing combo confirmed. "Okay, now I need details."

"There aren't any. Really. I was twelve, and she..." Tara saw the stare of, "Don't believe you," and sighed. "...Lissa was nineteen. Y-yes I had a crush on her, and yes I only learned to ride horses b-because she taught me how, but nothing happened. I don't think she ever knew." The shorter blonde still looked skeptical. "I was twelve!"

Laughing herself, Buffy mercifully took another fork down the same path. "At least tell me how she ranked on the 'Scale of Cuteness.'"

"Since when are you interested in how cute we are?" Tara teasingly posed, likely happy to get some payback. Her "we," spoke of their gender as a whole. "And why? Need details."

Buffy wanted nothing more at that moment than to be able to follow Tara's lead and hide her face. Except, she'd cut her damn hair too short. Then the next thing she wanted to do was tell Tara the extent to which she sucked, but Dawn might hear and get the wrong idea. Resulting in a massive step backward for their repaired relationship.

So internally-focused was she, that her mouth nearly got away from her. "I'm not. I'm only interested in y..." What had she been about to say? "...your interest. In we. Us. The us that is we." Man, mouth and brain weren't cooperating today. "Because we're good friends, and good friends like to know about each other's lives, even the parts where styles might, um, clash. And they're also...curious occasionally."

As their guide on the lead horse stopped, so did theirs. They'd arrived at a little stream, and the thirsty horses went without direction, to go drink from it. Being side-by-side and stationary, Tara was able to reach across and touch Buffy's knee.

"What d'you wanna know?"

Buffy hadn't really thought that far ahead. Her given reason was half the truth. She wanted to know Tara. Know the person who Dawn idolized, and who, from what Xander told her recently, had kept their odd, little family together and positive when she was dead. Humble as the woman was, she probably didn't believe she did anything.

Her unstated reason? She remembered never asking Willow. Never wanted to. Because of that, the redhead's relationship with Tara never got discussed. It became an unspoken rule. They used to talk about everything. About Oz, Angel, Riley...but Tara? No. Willow wouldn't say it, but that hurt their friendship.

She didn't get it then, and being so afraid of saying something wrong, she chose not saying anything at all. Maybe she was trying to correct her mistake. To get it. Already started to a little.

Met the witch's eyes. "What's your favorite thing about girls?"

"Hearing 'em." Tara didn't even have to ponder.

"Hearing 'em...what?" Buffy figured she better prepare herself for more blushing.

"Laughing, babbling..." That Tara was blushing, meant yep, Buffy was right to prepare. Voice got hushed and...something else. "...moaning..." Face reddened on schedule. "And if I'm lucky enough to be the one who makes it happen? That's the best feeling, Buffy. You have no idea."

Uh, thanks to that, Buffy sort of wanted to have an idea. Mental pictures. Pictures and sounds. They originated in a place having to do with moaning, how to get to moaning, and more specifically, her moaning while Tara made it happen. The longer she thought, she conjured ideas of after, with comfortable, soft spooning, feeling Tara's breath on the back of her neck as they slept...

She couldn't seem to help it. It was like a dam just broke, flooding her head with these scenarios. Most had no reality, but some did. She simply re-envisioned.

There were times when she'd watched Willow and Tara. Not in a peeping way; they'd just be sitting together. At the house, at Giles' apartment, the Magic Box, the Bronze, and Tara would have herself wrapped around Willow, and Willow would always look so safe in her arms. Truly safe.

Never having such an experience herself, not even with Angel (because, vampire), Buffy had been envious that her best friend found someone who gave her that. Now that she was flooded, she pictured herself in Willow's place during those times. That meant something. It meant that her slayer, sex overdrive wasn't the only thing at work here.

It meant she liked Willow's ex. Wait, no. It meant she liked Tara. Holy crap, it meant she liked Tara. When did that happen? She couldn't give herself up.

Tara answered her question, she had to reply. "Well, they say it's always the quiet ones." She could hide behind a grin.

"Are you okay?"

Maybe not.

"I'm fine, Tare." Buffy had called her by that slight nickname during coffee last week, and when she saw Tara smile at it, she'd adopted it ever since.

"That wasn't too m-much information?" The witch bashfully followed up with.

"Hey, I asked." _'Not enough,' _was what Buffy wanted to say, but kept that to herself. Despite being caught off-guard by her epiphany, she loved when stuff made sense. "'Cept someone sounded a tiny bit full of herself."

"Did I?" Tara attempted her clueless act, which Buffy was getting good at seeing past.

Every day she learned something new and surprising about her friend. "Tiny bit." Another smile. They were getting frequent. "Thanks for my prezzie. Again."

Tara smiled back. "You're welcome." God, she wanted...but couldn't. No kissing. "My turn--first crush?" The upside of that question? Her sudden lesbianistic crush and related, fantasy activities took a backseat to a deep, long-buried embarrassment. "No stalling. Come clean, sweetie. I could've asked about 'The Copy.'"

This was true. "Mr. White." Buffy revealed, causing mild surprise to register on the other girl's face. "Not that Mr. White."

Back to Tara and surprising--closet, Tarantino fan. "Kill Bill" being a favorite. That was unexpected. At first, anyways. When pressed, she said she liked the art of it, the style, the words, plus, well, Uma, while still wincing at each, over-the-top death. Except the Crazy 88s. Tara hated those guys.

"He was my third-grade teacher." The slayer finally elaborated, looking elsewhere.

Before Tara could react, Dawn felt she had to announce, holding her nose, "Oh my god. Clip-Clop just farted."

* * *

-Bath, England, Present-

Tara understood why Buffy was upset. Why the slayer had listened, and then didn't say anything afterwards, choosing sleep instead. In the course of a day, they'd ridden quite the emotional roller coaster. It could hold off until morning when they'd both had some amount of rest. She just didn't to ruin what they'd gained by making Buffy hate her. That wasn't how she wanted the coaster to end.

Morning (later morning, anyhow) had arrived, and they walked to their destination, reflecting on one thing.

The Powers agreed to follow through on Cordelia's request--her life to restore Tara's. However, it would've been an even trade. Back in LA, Cordelia's body had been alive, but stuck forever a mystical coma. So too, in taking her place, would Tara have been. They could restore the physical; it was only meat. Life force was a different matter entirely, and hers and Cordelia's had both long expired. For good.

The only way around, was for Tara to share another's. Already being connected to Buffy as her spirit guide, the Alpha slayer seemed a logical choice. Or put another way, the only choice. She wasn't given an Option B. Tara liked to think of life threads from Greek Myths to explain it. She'd become entwined with Buffy's.

And that was the extent, really. Also, she'd most likely be called upon down the road to act on their behalf, but that wasn't what had her girlfriend upset. See, the next time Buffy died? The very moment, without warning, even if she was nowhere near her, Tara would as well. Because no longer did she have her own, separate thread.

Coming to the stable, Buffy opened a door and allowed Tara inside first. She shut that door as she followed in behind, trying to keep the cold out. The wicca looked nervous after the task was completed, wondering who was going to start, when in a blink, she was being made out with. Thoroughly. It was over far too soon.

Once Tara's tongue regained the ability to let her form coherent words, she put her grin on and breathlessly commented, "Fine, you can, um, be mad all the time."

"I'm not mad." Buffy corrected, resting her head on Tara's chest. "Never was. Being backwards's worked well for us so far, so I said to myself, 'Why wait? Start off with the kissing. Go against the grain.'" She explained, and rolled ahead. "And, keeping thought train on track...we could go do that 'nudity' thing, then--slowly--work our way back to this part. Feel quite peppy." Beat. "Love hearing you...jeepers."

"Sweetie, if I had your stamina..." Tara held her tight, and kissed the top of her head. "But sometimes waiting's fun, too. Until tonight. After you take me out."

"Oh, that's how it's gonna be?" Buffy looked up with a smile that turned down after a few seconds. "What if there isn't a tonight? Or a tomorrow? Dying while slaying? Pretty much my hobby. It can easily happen--so say the odds." She kept going. "And it'd kill Dawn. Losing both of us, at the same time, again. S'not like she doesn't already need massive amounts of therapy. Plus? Everyone'll hate me."

"They wouldn't."

"Why wouldn't? I didn't stay alive for you."

Seeing Buffy's need for space just then, Tara let the tinier woman slip from her arms. Her girlfriend retreated to the stable's rear, grabbing the salt lick pouch that hung beside the brushes. Gave Tara a moment to think about Buffy's perfectly valid view.

There was a strong possibility their life wouldn't last long, and hurt would be caused to family left behind. Except, her view? More optimistic. And truth be told, she wasn't too concerned with how the others would take it. Selfish? Yes. But what she'd seen time and again from her stint above was that--

"People heal." Tara said as Buffy walked back her direction, but stopped at a stall along the left side. She put a salt lick cube in her palm, and held it out for a honey-colored horse to eat. Tara joined her as the animal had his snack. "What's his name?"

"Argo. Willow's choice." There were six stalls, three on each side, but only five horses. Buffy pointed to the one next to Argo. He had a spotted rump, and was dark brown. "That's Jagger. Giles named." She turned around and pointed to each of the three across from them. The black horse? "Fury. Xander's." The horse colored like a cow? "Bunga. As in, 'Cow-A.'"

Tara chuckled. "Dawn?"

"Dawn." Buffy confirmed, and it was plain to hear how sorry she felt for the poor thing. But now she was down to the last horse, colored a really beautiful gray, with a half-moon shaped, white mark on the top-middle of her head. "She's Clay." She moved down to Jagger and got another cube. "I didn't wanna be too obvious."

How could she not come back, Tara was asking herself, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She was compelled to hold her girlfriend again, and she did, coming up behind. This was already getting to feel familiar. No, she didn't regret agreeing to the Powers terms. She'd known the risks, and accepted them.

"I love you." She uttered softly into Buffy's ear. "If there isn't a tonight, I'm still glad there was a yesterday." She wouldn't trade it, not ever. "And I'll tell'm."

"We will." The slayer amended, her eyes closing. "So am I. Buffy glad." And they reopened. "Boy is she."

"You are?" Tara exclaimed, picking on another sentence, and let Buffy catch on without help. "Well, that's it. We have to break up. Right now."

"Wow. Shallow. Can't you see past the physical?" Came the mock-hurt/disgust. "Ooh! And bar-corners that don't actually exist? Splainy."

"Um..." The witch held out as long as she could, but she had to laugh. Then, adding insult to injury, she swiped the pouch from Buffy's hand and ran across to the other horses.

The victim of theft whirled around, crossed her arms over her chest and shot her best disapproving glare at Tara. Tara flashed her an innocent, apologetic smile, and started feeding the horses. She felt hazel eyes on her. "I wasn't looking." Buffy's words were a lot less icy then her stare. "Didn't think, 'Hey, I know! Tara!' But, happened, and it was very brand new and scary and...fun. Emphasis on fun. I'm not gonna waste our chance.

"We'll talk to the gang, and I'll deal. Like always. Part'a the fun of us, though? We weren't this epic, dangerous, magick vending machine-moving, soul losing, soul getting, or soul mating...almost couple." She paused to breathe. "Don't get me wrong, as crazy as my previous relationships've been, still wouldn't wanna have missed out. And I know how important Will is to you.

"But the point, which I have...there was a simpleness. Slaying and witchcraft? Non-factors. For once, it didn't feel like the universe went all 'Cupid' on me; the falling for was completely separate from the guiding. We were friends--who discovered feelings. No more story." She walked over to Tara, who still had her hand out for Bunga, but the cube had gotten consumed a while back. "Now? The universe is back in the middle, creating the world's largest Catch-22 ever."

"I know."

With Willow, magick was the catalyst that connected them at first. It was a powerful thing, and through that, they fell in love. There'd never be anything like what she and the redhead shared, which might've been a plus, because sometimes the relationship felt beyond them. Glory, the dark magicks...they'd had no control. She imagined it was the same way for Buffy and Angel.

With Buffy, the catalyst was a night of communication. Open, honest and heavy communication. Then there was a beach, coffee, horseback riding, air-hockey, shopping...that was powerful in a way having to do with no one but her and Buffy. Mystical forces strayed clear. Until presently. She thought what scared the slayer the most, was the déjà vu. Their relationship wouldn't be in their hands anymore.

"Don't care how 'Romeo and Juliet' mutual dying is. It isn't fair...but I'm done. This is me dealing." Buffy finished her piece, grabbing Tara's free hand and squeezing it. "Love you."

Wasn't much to be said. Tara certainly couldn't think of anything. They were here, and there was love. That'd have to be enough. She didn't deserve to be greedy; she wasn't supposed to be alive. Buffy neither. Who else got to return from the dead without the severe consequence of blood and/or brain-cravings? Nobody else that Tara knew of. They were let off easy, and to demand more felt ungrateful.

She sighed. "You're right. We should start a-a club."

"I call President." Buffy slowly smiled, and they left the other shoe on the floor.

"Presidents need interns..." Tara said it so casually.

Damn that hell-spawn.

The slayer looked hopeful. "Are you applying?"

"Tonight. Maybe." When her girlfriend's head turned, she kissed the frown. "Can we go into London? For dinner?"

"Depends. Will the 'centipede story' be a topic of conversation?"

The witch's eyes? Saucer-wide. "H-H-How'd you...?" No, she wouldn't win. "Will 'The Copy'?"

"If I still get to interview you later..." Buffy seemed to be really struggling with her decision. Brow was creased like nobody's business. "...okay. But why do you hafta suck?"

"Like you don't?" Tara challenged, dimples betraying her scoffing. Before she knew what she was doing, the salt lick was on the floor with the shoe, and she was kissing Buffy feverishly while on the move. Progress stopped when Buffy's back hit wall. "Screw it. Waiting sucks."

"Horses, Tare." Buffy somehow reminded. "Could...spook..."

"Better be quiet, then." Tara's grinned, lowering to the ground and slid her hands down Buffy's sides in the process, what at the same time getting her jacket to fall off.

"Me quiet?" The slayer's hips began to move, and the witch hadn't even touched yet.

Both stable doors opened wide. Kennedy strolled in, a group of the new generation--including Nadia--with her. "Hey, Boss, I was just gonna take some of the girls for an early run, and--" The blondes froze, seeing their audience. "Whoops. I'll ask later." The smirk said this was no accident. "Move out, Maggots."

Giggling teens rushed out, and still smirking, Kennedy closed the doors, leaving them as alone as before. Except for the horses.

"I'm gonna kill her." Buffy promised. "Once the teapot's dead."

Tara was more stuck on, "I can't make that many pancakes."

Beat. Several.

"Sex first?" Buffy suggested.

"Please."

They'd be fine. They would. And when death came (at a time like this, in a year far away) something else would live. Nothing sucked about that.


End file.
